


Champion's Last Chance

by Adrasos



Category: Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Explicit Language, F/M, Hawke Inquisitor - Freeform, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-15
Updated: 2018-10-07
Packaged: 2019-01-17 23:18:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 20,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12376206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adrasos/pseuds/Adrasos
Summary: "Then let's get a move on, if I'm going to die I'd rather get it over with."All Hawke wanted to do was grab Varric from the conclave and run. In and out while the Templars and Mages talked, simple. Things are rarely simple in Hawke's life.





	1. Well, shit.

A searing pain in her hand make Hawke gasp as she regained consciousness. _'Fucking shit bastard.'_ She thought, groggily taking in her surroundings. _'A dungeon? What the fuck have I done this time?'_ The door crashed open, and two women marched in. The first was stern looking Seeker, and behind her stood someone Hawke recognised. _'Nightingale.'_

"Mind telling me what's going on?" Hawke squinted up at them. A flash of green caught her eye, and her blue globes widened when she inspected her hand to find a glowing green brand in her palm. 

"The conclave is destroyed, everyone who attended is dead." The seeker growled as she circled Hawke. "Except you." 

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Hawke snapped, still staring at her mark. 

"Explain this!" The seeker demanded, grabbing Hawke's wrist and holding her hand up. 

"Want me to write a book?" Hawke shot back, blowing her long raven coloured hair out of her eyes. 

"I am in no mood for jokes Champion!" The seeker shouted, grabbing Hawke and looking ready to strangle the life out of her.

"We need her Cassandra." Leliana intervened, grabbing the seeker's arm before she could strike Hawke. 

"Now that you've calmed down." Hawke said, anger and confusion lacing her words. "Would you mind explaining what's going on?" 

"It is best of we show you." Cassandra replied eventually, pulling Hawke to her feet. 

* * *

"Hold the line men!" Cullen roared as he wrestled with a demon. He held it at bay with his shield, then thrust his sword into it's abdomen. The creature screamed as it melted, and Cullen scanned the troops around him. Several lay dead, even more injured and dying. 

"Commander." A soldier approached. "We're clear for now."

"Get the wounded down the mountain." Cullen ordered. _'Where in the Maker's name is Cassandra and Hawke?'_ Hawke. Marian Hawke. The Champion of Kirkwall. Of course she was involved. 

"Commander, we've got movement!" A soldier shouted, and his remaining men span to face the rift. Several demons spilled out and fixed their gazes on them. 

 _'The attacks are coming quicker now.'_ Cullen thought grimly. "Ready men, stay strong." He ordered while raising his shield. A fireball suddenly soared over his troops and smashed into the demons, melting them in an unnaturally powerful blaze. As the troops and their Commander stared in shock at the carnage, a voice could be heard moving through the ranks. 

"Move, coming through, shift it." Hawke snapped as she moved through the ranks of soldiers. She walked straight towards the rift and held her hand up, and soon it was no more. "Right, next?" Hawke asked as she span back towards the troops, freezing at the sight of Cullen. 

"Commander." Cassandra announced as she approached him. "I believe you already know the Champion." 

 _'That's an understatement.'_ Cullen thought as he studied Hawke. She wore her signature armour, the well worn black steel still in pristine condition. Yet it was her eyes that caught Cullen's attention. The once shining blue orbs were weary and dull, the youthful exuberance that grinded his nerves day in day out during his time in Kirkwall nowhere to be seen. Realising he was staring, Cullen spoke. "It's been a long time Champion." He managed. 

"I would say I'm glad to see you, but that would be a lie." Hawke replied gruffly, running a hand though her hair. It had grown since he last saw her, the short and scruffy style being replaced with long waves of hair that tumbled to her shoulders. "Still a Templar?" 

"I have left the order." Cullen responded, and Hawke's eyebrows raised slightly. 

"Really? Well, good on you." She nodded, then moved her gaze to Cassandra. "Can we move on grumpy?" 

"The temple of sacred ashes is just up ahead." Cassandra said stiffly, eye twitching slightly. 

"Then let's get a move on, if I'm going to die I'd rather get it over with." Hawke span on her heel and marched away, Varric, Solas and a very angry Cassandra following. 

"Maker be with you." Cullen muttered, then turned and realised his troops were still stood behind him and had heard the whole exchange. "Get moving!" He barked, spurring them into action. "Start transporting the wounded to Haven." 

* * *

Hawke slowly pulled on her armour inside the small cabin, joints and muscles aching. _'So the hole in the sky isn't any bigger. And they haven't killed me yet.'_ She thought. Hawke then recalled what the frightened elf girl had told her. 

 _"Lady Cassandra said to report to the Chantry right away!"_ She had said before running away. 

 _'The Chantry is the last place I'm going.'_ Hawke thought as she grabbed the door handle. She pulled the door open, then froze at the sight. People lined the streets, all staring and pointing. 

 _"That's the Herald of Andraste."_ They whisperedto each other. 

 _'Well, shit. This isn't good.'_ Hawke thought glumly. She then approached the nearest soldier, who looked terrified as she walked up to him. "Where's the tavern?" She asked him. 

"Uh..." The soldier looked stunned. 

"Are you deaf?" Hawke rolled her eyes. 

"It's, uh, just down there." The soldier pointed towards it, and Hawke followed his finger towards a large wooden building. "But you're meant to report to the Chantry."  

"Don't care." Hawke shrugged, then set off towards the tavern. She noticed how the people of Haven had lined the streets leading to the Chantry, trying to herd her towards it. _'Not bloody likely. Now what's all this Herald of Andraste shit?'_ The stunned looking crowd parted as she walked through, and she soon found herself at the doors of the tavern. It was empty, apart from the bar maid, as everyone was outside. 

"What can I get..." The bar maid started, then froze when she realised who had walked in. 

"Bottle of rum, strongest you've got." Hawke said as she took a seat at the bar and placed a couple of gold coins on the counter. Realising that the bar maid still hadn't moved, Hawke grew agitated. "Is everyone around here deaf?" 

"Sorry, right away." The maid panicked, snatching up the coins and reaching down behind the bar. She produced a bottle of rum and placed it on the top before practically running from the tavern. 

"Strange girl." Hawke muttered before uncorking the bottle with her teeth. Ignoring the crowd gawping through the windows, she pressed the bottle to her lips and drank greedily, the strong alcohol burning it's way down her throat. She placed the bottle back down and wiped her lips, turning to stare at the crowd outside. "Got a problem?" She called, and they quickly dispersed. "Thought not." 

* * *

"She must be taken to Val Royaux for trial." Chancellor Roderick demanded. 

"She sealed the breach." Cassandra shot back. 

"It is sealed for now, yet it remains in the sky." Roderick snapped. A knock on the door made them turn their heads expectantly. "Is that her?" 

"Hawke doesn't knock." Cullen shook his head. 

"Enter." Cassandra called. A nervous looking soldier entered the room and stood at attention. 

"Where is the Herald?" Cassandra frowned. "I was told she was awake." 

"She's... in the tavern Lady Cassandra." 

"Was she not told to report to the Chantry?" Leliana raised an eyebrow. 

"I believe she refused." The soldier said. 

"Typical." Cullen muttered. "You're dismissed." The soldier nodded and marched out. 

"Can she not take anything seriously?" Cassandra growled, rubbing her forehead. "I'm going to retrieve her." 

 _'We're going to need a new tavern.'_ Cullen thought. 


	2. Let's do this

Hawke turned her head towards the tavern door when it crashed open, and raised an eyebrow at Cassandra. "Ever heard of knocking?" She said, words slurring slightly. Cassandra eyed the empty bottle in front of the Champion with distaste. 

"Is this really appropriate?" The seeker demanded. 

"What, a woman can't have a little drink?" Hawke grinned as she raised another bottle to her lips. 

"This is shameful behaviour." Cassandra took a step forward. "The people of Haven believe you to be the herald of Andraste, yet here you sit wallowing at the bottom of a bottle." 

"Exactly where I want to be." Hawke nodded. Cassandra lapsed into silence, shock halting her words. "What, did you expect the 'glorious Champion' to ride to the rescue and solve all your problems?" Hawke huffed. 

"The sky is torn open." Cassandra snapped as she took another step forward. "The mages and Templars are still at war, and you choose to do nothing?" 

"I did my part." Hawke snapped back.

"Is that so?" 

"I held Kirkwall together. I stopped an invasion. I defended innocents against a tyrant. I stepped in as Viscount when no one else would." Her grip tightened on the bottle in her hand. "And what did I get in return? My family is dead. My brother is lost to me in the Wardens. Even my dog is gone!" Cassandra was taken back by the sudden fragility shown by Hawke, her blue eyes filled with sorrow and grief. 

"Champion, we need you." Cassandra tried. Hearing her title, Hawke's eyes hardened significantly. 

"I'm nobody's Champion." She spat, then slumped in her seat, the anger seeming to leave as quickly as it had appeared. "Find someone else." 

* * *

Cassandra approached Varric, who sat by a campfire reading a book. He looked up as she approached, smiling sympathetically. 

"Even I won't try to stop her when she's like this Seeker, just let her calm down." Varric said. 

"How long?" Cassandra asked, Varric understanding the question perfectly. 

"She always liked a drink to help her calm down, but she really started hitting the heavy stuff after her mother died." Varric sighed. "It only got worse when she became Champion. I don't think a day went by where she didn't have a bottle in hand." 

"You never told me this in your story." Cassandra said gruffly. 

"She's got a lot of problems Seeker, it's not my place to publicise them." Varric shook his head. "The fact she hasn't broken down already is a miracle. This isn't going to help." He said, gesturing around himself at Haven. 

"Please, talk to her Varric." Cassandra asked genuinely, words solemn. "We cannot do this without her." 

"Oh, she'll help." Varric sighed. "But she's not been the same since Kirkwall." 

"What happened Varric?" Cassandra spoke quietly. 

"Everything went to shit. Apart from Carver, she's the last Hawke." Varric said, then sent a pointed glare Cassandra's way. "And all you Chantry folks still blame her for the rebellion. Shit, the whole world does." He then stood and dusted himself off, setting off slowly towards the tavern. "She's not invincible. The sooner you understand that, the better." 

* * *

"I'm not joining your fucking..." Hawke started as the door opened once again, turning and freezing when she saw who had entered. 

"Knock knock." Varric grinned as he made his way over and took the seat next to her. 

"Hello dwarf." Hawke smiled sadly. "Shame my rescue plan went tits over heels, we could have been a hundred miles from here by now." 

"I'd stay here anyway." Varric said. "These people are the only ones trying to make a difference, and they need all the help they can get." 

"Uh huh." Hawke nodded absently. Varric noted the empty bottles front of her, then the sorrow in her eyes. 

 _'Here it comes.'_ He thought, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. 

"Why me Varric?" Hawke almost sobbed, placing her face in her hands. "Haven't I done enough, suffered enough?" She was barely holding herself together. "When does it end?" 

"I don't know Marian." Varric replied quietly, and at the sound of her first name Hawke's last string of composure snapped. 

"I want it to end." She sobbed. "I can't keep living like this." Varric didn't respond, only holding her as she cried through the pain and her broken heart. He looked up to see Cassandra stood at the window, the seeker frozen in shock at the sight. 

 _"Go."_ Varric mouthed to her, gesturing with his head. _'She needs more time.'_

* * *

Cassandra, Cullen, Josephine and Leliana stood around the table in the war room. 

"News of us is spreading." Leliana reported. "The Champion of Kirkwall becoming the Herald of Andraste is causing quite a storm."

"She practically started the mage rebellion." Cullen sighed, rubbing his forehead. "This won't be received well by the Chantry."

"Yet the Champion's name still carries a lot of power." Josephine tapped her chin. "This can be used to our advantage."

"You did not witness her moments ago." Cassandra shook her head. "It seems that the Champion seeks solace in drink quite frequently." 

"We can keep it quiet." Josephine said unconvincingly. 

"The Champion may not be suited to the task." Cassandra sighed. "She is a broken woman. I have never seen such self loathing."

"Whether she is up to the task or not..." Cullen started, then stopped and looked around as the door crashed open. Hawke strode in beside Varric, and stood with crossed arms before the advisors.

"Okay fuckers." She grinned darkly. "Shall we begin?"   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that's the 'intro' done. Let's get this show on the road.


	3. Time to be a hero

The bald elf had been studying her for a while now. The group was en-route to the Hinterlands to meet mother Giselle, and before they had set off Hawke had set down some rules. 

 _"Don't try and make small talk with me, don't wake me up, and stay at least four steps away from me."_ She had said before they departed. It hadn't stopped Solas silently studying her however.

"Got something to say elf?" Hawke asked without turning around. She rode alongside Varric, with Cassandra and Solas trailing behind them. 

"I just imagined the mighty Champion to be taller." Solas replied. "The way people talk about you, you're supposed to be ten foot tall with fireballs for eyes." 

"Good for them." Hawke said flatly. 

"We haven't spoken at all since the breach was sealed." Solas said suggestively. "I have a few questions, if you wouldn't mind answering them." 

"Read the book." Hawke grunted. "Seems like everyone else has." 

"From what the seeker tells me, it is rather lacking in authenticity." Solas shook his head. 

"Not true." Varric chimed in as he turned to face the elf. "Parts are merely exaggerated." 

"It is actually the mark that interests me, not your turbulent past." 

"Get fucked elf." Hawke grunted. 

"Then I take it you won't be answering any questions?" Solas raised an eyebrow. "Or letting me examine it?" 

"Ten points baldy, now fuck off." Hawke snapped as she raised a flask to her lips.

"What is that?" Cassandra finally spoke.

"Some sort of brandy." Hawke shrugged. "Didn't ask the guy I took it off." 

"You stole it?" Cassandra frowned, her already dwindling admiration for the Champion growing smaller by the second. 

"Ah, so it seems our saviour is a thief as well as a drunkard." Solas said sarcastically. 

"Hawke." Varric sighed. "Who's is it?" 

"That arsehole Seggrit." Hawke replied before taking a drink. "Not a bad taste in drink, considering what a cunt he is." 

* * *

_Commander Cullen,_

_The Champion believes that she can single handedly resolve the situation in the Hinterlands. I believe that she would be capable of achieving this, if she were sober and stable. The Champion is rarely without drink, and recklessly attacks groups of Templars and Mages on her own. She also tends to steal more drink for herself when her purse runs empty, which is often._

_I believe we must rethink our strategy of letting her be the head of our field operations until her drinking problem can be brought under control, by force if necessary. I am also concerned for her mental state, as the Champion is highly volatile._

_If you have any advice regarding the Champion I would be grateful for it, as Varric refuses to stop her. He is very protective of her, and gives little insight regarding her destructive nature._

_We are preparing to attack a Templar stronghold as I write this, and if the Maker is with us it will be clear by the time this letter reaches you._

_Cassandra Pentaghast._

* * *

  _Seeker Cassandra,_

_We received word that the Templar stronghold has fallen, and the survivors who chose to side with us have just arrived safely in Haven._

_Regarding the Champion, I'm afraid I can be of little help. She and Varric are like family, and he is unlikely to reign her in unless she puts herself in great danger._

_I doubt she will act in a way that will warrant action taken against her, as I believe Hawke is still a good person under her aggressive manner. In Kirkwall, Hawke was kind to everyone, and went out of her way to help them no matter if they were a Mage, Qunari, Citizen or Templar. She even stepped in when tension in the circle reached a breaking point, and kept the peace far longer than I or the grand enchanter had ever managed._

_Yours, Commander Cullen._

* * *

The party rode into the crossroads just as the sun set behind the hills. Several Inquisition soldiers moved forward to take their horses as they dismounted. Hawke stretched and looked towards Cassandra. It had been a long day of sealing rifts, then setting up Inquisition camps to monitor the areas.

"I'm going for a walk grumpy." Hawke said to Cassandra. The Seeker rolled her eyes as she made her way towards the trader with Solas in tow, muttering under her breath. Hawke then turned to Varric, who was looking at her with a raised eyebrow. 

"A walk?" He asked. "You hate walking." 

"I love walking." She grinned. "I just hate it when there's a huge fucking hill in the way." Hawke then set her eyes on the inn across the town. "Ah, I've found my destination." 

"Couldn't you have just told the Seeker you were going to the inn?" Varric sighed. 

"What, and receive another one of those glares?" Hawke scoffed. "No thanks. You coming?" 

"Be right with you." Varric replied. "Need to buy some oil for Bianca." 

"I'll get you a drink." Hawke said as she set off. The normally quiet town was packed with refugees and Inquisition soldiers, and rows of tents lined the roads and fields. Most ignored her as she walked past, yet she noted several resentful stares. _'It's great to be me.'_ She thought, the inn drawing closer. Hawke noticed that she could cut across a field and arrive quicker, so she turned off the path and into the soil. Refugees huddled together in patched tents, cooking rations over small fires. A small girl ran in front of Hawke and tripped, dropping her doll in the process. 

"Woah, easy." Hawke said as she kneeled down and picked up the doll. The little girl stood and brushed herself off, looking up at Hawke with puppy eyes. 

"Sorry miss." She said shyly. 

"It doesn't matter." Hawke smiled lightly, handing the doll back. "What's your name?" 

"Isabela." The girl answered, smiling as she took the doll back. 

"I have a friend called Isabela." Hawke smiled fully. "She's really pretty, just like you." This made Isabela smile brightly, cheeks heating up. 

"Thank you miss." 

"Well aren't you polite?" Hawke chuckled, words tinged with sadness. _'Just like Bethany.'_

"Isabela, get away from her!" A woman snapped, and Hawke turned her head to look up at her. The woman grabbed Isabela's wrist and glared down at Hawke. "Stay away from my daughter, you monster." The warm feeling that had started to pool in Hawke's stomach quickly dissipated as she lost her smile, standing to face the woman. 

"Monster?" She asked, noticing several people surrounding her. 

"That's the Champion." A man stepped forward, fists clenched. "She started this war. My brother is dead because of you!" 

"I didn't start anything." Hawke tried, raising her hands as she took a slow step backwards. More people were beginning to surround her, anger in their gazes. 

"Bullshit." The lead man snapped as he took another step forward, squaring up to her. "I say we deliver some justice, with the Maker as our witness." This roused several cheers from the crowd, and Hawke looked down at Isabela sadly. The little girl looked around at the crowd with fear, confused as to why they were threatening the nice lady. 

"Look away Isabela." Hawke said softly, then brought her eyes up to meet the man's once again. "What's your name?" She asked. 

"Marcus." He replied, slightly confused. 

"Do what you have to do Marcus." Hawke said flatly, and he looked around at the surrounding crowd with raised eyebrows before throwing a punch. His fist crashed into Hawke's jaw, and her head whipped around as her knees wobbled. The crowd cheered as he swung with the other fist, Hawke's head snapping to the other side as a spurt of blood escaped her lips. Expecting Hawke to fight back, Marcus took a step back and raised his fists defensively, but to his confusion the Champion didn't move. Instead Hawke wiped the blood from her mouth and stood straight once again, sad eyes fixing themselves on Marcus. The cheers from the crowd died down slightly, and Marcus frowned. 

"Fight back." He demanded, but Hawke only shook her head. Her peaceful response gave Marcus pause, and he lowered his fists slightly before images of his brother came flooding into his mind and the anger returned. He launched his fist at her nose, Hawke's head snapping back as the fist connected. Another man swang his fist, connecting with her jaw from the side, and now the crowd surged forward. 

 _'You deserve it.'_ Hawke thought numbly as she was driven to the floor, curling into a ball protectively as fists and feet rained down on her. She grunted as a boot dislocated her knee, then cried out as another broke several ribs. Again and again the blows came, breaking bones until through the fog in her mind Hawke heard yelling.

The attacks stopped as Inquisition soldiers charged into the crowd, carving a path to Hawke for Solas, Cassandra and Varric. She vaguely heard Varric shouting her name, and Cassandra calling for a healer. Solas reached out with healing magic, and Hawke fell into unconsciousness, relief sweeping in alongside the healing magic. 

_'It's finally over.'_

* * *

Cassandra froze as she entered the medical tent, seeing Varric sat beside Hawke's cot gripping her hand tightly. Her face and arms were covered in bruises, as was the rest of her body covered by the sheet. Varric looked up to her, pain and fury filling his gaze. 

"What the fuck happened Seeker?" He growled, gripping Bianca tightly with his free hand. 

"Our troops detained most of the attackers and put them to questioning. It seems that a mob blamed her for the war." Cassandra replied. "And decided to take justice into their own hands." 

"Justice?" Varric growled as he looked back towards Hawke. "Is that what they called it?" 

"She didn't fight back." Cassandra sighed. "She could have held them off, but let them attack." 

"Of course she did." Varric said quietly, squeezing Hawke's hand. "She's the only person that blames herself more than the mob." 

"We have identified the ringleader." Cassandra said, and noted the dark look that came over Varric's eyes. "He is being transported to Haven as we speak to face justice." 

"What do you mean by Justice?" Varric growled. "Because I'm in the mood for some target practice." 

"We will wait for the Champion to recover, then refer to her judgment." Cassandra replied. 

"She won't want to punish him." Varric shook his head sadly. "She'll probably thank him." 


	4. Too much to handle

Hawke awoke, and instantly regretted trying to move as searing pain tore across her broken body. " _Bastard._ " She groaned, wondering how she ended up in such a state. _'I was going to the inn, did I drink a tad too much?'_ She wondered, before it all came crashing back. The little girl, the mob, the beating. It was too much at once, and she took a shaky breath to try and calm her frayed nerves as a single tear escaped the corner of her eye. Panic started to build in her chest, too quickly to handle. Hawke looked over to the entrance of the tent when it opened, revealing Cassandra. _'Not now!'_

"Champion." The Seeker greeted as she entered. Hawke tried to raise her arm to wipe at her wet eyes, but lost the battle with her blanket and slumped back, defeated. She tried to take a deep breath, but found that her lungs weren't functioning properly. "Champion?" Cassandra said again, but this time in alarm as Hawke looked around the tent in terror while taking short, ragged breaths. "Healer!" She roared as she took hold of Hawke's shoulders. 

"I _gasp..._ can't _gasp..._ " Hawke tried desperately, clutching the blanket tightly in her bruised hands. The healer barged into the tent and shoved Cassandra out of the way, impressive considering that she was a small Elven woman. 

"She's having a panic attack." The healer said, taking hold of Hawke's hands and looking into her eyes. "Hawke, listen to my voice. Take a deep breath with me." She said gently yet sternly, taking an exaggerated deep breath. Hawke only stared back with wide eyes, breathing still erratic as her skin took on a pale tone. 

"Varric!" Cassandra roared as she ran out of the medical tent, several soldiers and healers stumbling back. She spotted Varric sprinting over from the food tent, the short man moving with surprising speed. 

"What's wrong?" He asked, barging into the tent and freezing.

"She's not responding." The healer said. 

"Move over." Varric snapped, taking hold of Hawke's face with both hands. "Marian, breathe." He said gently. Hawke reached up and grabbed hold of his coat tightly. 

"Varric." She managed to gasp. 

"Don't speak." He shook his head as Cassandra and the healer stood behind him, watching on with alarm. "Just breathe." 

"Varric." She gasped again. "I'm _gasp_ going _gasp_ to _gasp_ die." 

"No you're not Marian." Varric said. Hawke's skin was pale, and her hands trembled as they held on to his coat. He took hold of one of her hands, and placed it on his chest. "Breathe when I do Marian." He took a deep breath, and Hawke calmed down enough to try. It took several attempts, but by the eighth try Hawke had started to breathe normally again as her skin returned to its normal shade. Cassandra watched on, speechless, as Hawke buried her face in the crook of Varric's neck and started to cry. 

"Give us some space." He said without turning round, wrapping his arms around Hawke's trembling form protectively. 

"She's fine." The healer whispered to Cassandra, motioning to the tent entrance and herding the Seeker out. "She needs time." 

* * *

"Varric?" Cassandra called from outside the tent as the sun set behind the hills. 

"Yeah, come in." Was his tired reply. Cassandra moved the tent flap aside and slowly entered, seeing Hawke's unconscious form. Varric sat beside her, still holding her hand. 

"What was that Varric?" She asked, staying stood up. 

"Didn't you hear the healer?" He sighed, rubbing his stubble. "Panic attack." 

"How long?" 

"The first attack?" He pondered for a moment. "After the fight with the Arishok. She had to use her magic in front of everyone, thought the Templars were going to throw her in the circle." 

"And after that?" 

"Regularly when everyone started to depend on her." Varric looked at Hawke's face. "You weren't there Seeker. Mages wanted her to push the Templars for freedom, Templars wanted her to help keep the Mages in the circle, the nobles wanted her to play Viscount, the guard captain wanted her to keep the streets clean." He shook his head sadly. "She's barely holding together as it is, yet here she is once again." 

"We should have known." Cassandra said. "We could have..." 

"Could have what?" Varric snapped, cutting her off. "This isn't something you can control Seeker." Cassandra lapsed into silence, turning to study Hawke's face. The Champion looked vulnerable and small, even more so with the bruising covering her body. "Just leave her." He sighed eventually, and she turned to leave. 

"Varric." She paused at the entrance of the tent. "Cullen was in Kirkwall. Does he know?"

"Yeah." He replied.

"Why wouldn't he tell us?"

"Because he knows what it's like to have a war in your head. It isn't his place to talk about it."

"How did he find out?" 

"After we killed Meredith, what was left of us went back to her estate. She broke down completely, and none of us could bring her out of it." Varric said, and Cassandra turned back around to face him once again. "She'd had bad attacks before, but this was nothing like you've seen. Next thing you know, Cullen comes by to check in on us. He can see what's happening straight away and runs to her." Varric's eyes were far away, recalling the event. "He managed to calm her down like he was an expert." 

"Commander Cullen has suffered greatly in the past." Cassandra nodded. 

"Now, you have your story." Varric's voice took on a warning tone. "And it doesn't get repeated to anyone." 

"Leliana and Josephine will have to know." Cassandra shook her head. "But nobody else shall know, I swear it." 

"Fine." Varric nodded eventually, and Cassandra left the tent. _'She needs to talk to Curly when we get back. That man has seen more shit than the rest of us combined, and he's still going.'_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a comment, let me know what you think.


	5. Sides of the same coin

Waves gently lapped at Hawke's ankles, the salty sea air of the wounded coast thick in her nostrils. Above, gulls cawed as they circled, and a gentle breeze cooled Hawke's hot skin in the summertime weather. Opposite her stood a small contingent of bandits, holding a hostage on his knees. The man wore expensive clothes, torn beyond repair due to days of rough treatment. 

"You got the money?" The lead bandit asked, holding a dagger to the man's throat. 

"I'll show it you when you put the knife away." Hawke countered, a single bead of sweat appearing on her forehead. _'Too damn hot.'_ She slowly baked inside her rough leather armour, as did the bandits. 

"We're not playing games here, show us the coin." The leader growled, pressing the knife in deeper. 

"You'll see the coin when you take the knife away. One wrong twitch and he's dead, which means I'll have to kill you." 

"Think you'll manage it?" He sneered. 

* * *

"Wait." Cassandra interrupted. "She was alone?" She asked as she rode her horse. Beside her, Varric rolled his eyes. 

"You won't find out if you keep interrupting." He said, glancing at the medical cart in front of them quickly before continuing. 

* * *

"Think you'll manage it?" 

"Easily." Hawke yawned, adjusting her armour in the heat. The bandit leader glanced to a couple of his men in disbelief. 

"We ain't buying the one woman army act." 

"Well I'm not fucking selling it. Take the knife away and talk reasonably, or things are going to get messy." 

"Boss." One of the bandits said. "She normally runs with a crew, they'll be around." The leader pondered for a moment before taking the knife away from the hostages throat, who hadn't moved a muscle during the whole exchange. The man slumped forward and took a deep, shaky breath. 

"Don't worry Ser, you'll be free in a moment." Hawke said to him. 

* * *

"She just paid the ransom?" Cassandra frowned. The Inquisition convoy consisted of several medical carts carrying wounded soldiers from the Hinterlands, and travel was slow. 

"Interrupt me again and I won't finish." Varric warned. "Now, where was I..." 

* * *

"Don't worry Ser, you'll be free in a moment." Hawke said to him, and the hostage looked up gratefully. 

"Not so fast Hawke." The leader took a step forward. 

"Ah, is this where your genius trap is sprung?" 

"Grab her before her crew gets here." The leader ordered, and his men spread out with weapons drawn. "Double the bounty." 

"You know, bandits these days are becoming so predictable." Hawke sighed, then threw her arms out wide. The sand at their feet erupted, throwing up a great cloud. As the bandits coughed and whirled to try and locate Hawke, she grabbed the hostage and started running, dragging the man behind her with one hand while throwing a fireball behind them with the other. Bandits screamed as the fireball exploded, but the sand cloud had settled, leaving several archers free to take aim at Hawke's exposed back. They fired, arrows soaring towards the target... 

* * *

"Is this cart driver _trying_ to hit every fucking bump in the road?!" Hawke demanded groggily from inside her cart, interrupting Varric. 

"What happened next?" Cassandra gasped. Haven could be seen further down the valley, warm food and beds just a few short miles away. 

"Sorry Seeker, another time." Varric grinned, jumping from his horse and hurrying to the medical cart as it trundled along the country road. Cassandra took hold of his horse's reigns reluctantly, scowling. He pulled the flap open and climbed inside, grinning at Hawke. "You're supposed to be knocked out still." 

"And you're supposed to knock before you enter a lady's chambers." Hawke responded sarcastically, waving a hand at her surroundings.

"Apologies my lady." Varric chuckled, taking a seat next to her bed in the cramped space. "Really though, how are you?" He asked seriously. 

"Survived bigger beatings than this." She shrugged. 

"I'm not talking about the mob." Varric leaned forward, Hawke's shoulders sagging under his intense gaze. 

"I'm fine." Hawke said quietly. "First one in a while. Back into the fray eh?" She joked weakly. 

"Marian..." 

"I know Varric, but what can I do?" 

"Try talking about your problems for once, instead of drowning them in ale." 

"Touché master Tethras." 

"It's like talking to a wall." He muttered. "An alcoholic, self destructive wall." Hawke reached over and grabbed his hand, looking into his eyes. 

"Varric, we both know that the Inquisition is the end of the road for me. I've used up all of my chances." 

"What, can you see the future now?" 

"No, but I trust my gut." 

"Come on Marian." He said quietly. "We're a team, and we haven't been stopped yet." 

"How many world changing events have I been in the middle of now?" She lay back in her bed, wincing slightly. "I deserve a big fucking statue. Or some cheese. Or both." 

"When we reach Haven, I'll get you your cheese." Varric smiled lightly. 

"You're the best Varric." She said, just before her eyes widened. "Or maybe I could have a statue made of cheese? Oh, I am a genius." 

"You want your legacy to be a smelly, edible statue?" 

"Well, when you put it that way..." 

* * *

Cullen stood outside Hawke's cabin, hand hovering in front of the door. After a moment of hesitation, he knocked. 

"Doors open." Hawke called from inside, prompting Cullen to reach for the handle and push. The inside of the cabin was comfortable and clean, apart from several empty bottles scattered around the room. Hawke sat on her bed, wearing only a shirt and tight leather trousers, hair was loose and wild. 

"Herald." Cullen greeted her. 

"Cullen." She replied, holding up an ale bottle in greeting. 

"Could I have a moment of your time?" 

"Sure, take a seat." She gestured to the chair next to her bed, and it groaned under the weight of his armour. "What do you need?" 

"It's regarding the man who turned the refugees against you." Cullen said, and Hawke sighed. 

"Let him go." 

".....Pardon?" He frowned after several heartbeats. 

"Let him go." Hawke said again, looking up to the ceiling. 

"I will have to discuss this with Leliana and Cassandra." Cullen nodded, still frowning. 

"What else did you want?" Hawke asked. "You won't have bothered visiting just to ask that." 

"Still as sharp as ever I see." Cullen smiled slightly. 

"I still try. Much harder these days." 

"Very well. Cassandra told me..." 

"Told you what happened, and sent you here to get all the facts." Hawke shut him down. 

"Actually, Cassandra demanded to know why I didn't inform her about your past troubles. I still haven't, and won't until you deem it necessary." 

"Oh." She paused. "Thanks." 

"How have you been since Kirkwall?" 

"Not bad. That's the first episode I've had in months." Hawke admitted quietly, looking down. "I never thanked you for helping us in the end. And pulling me out of that pit." She looked up into his concerned eyes. 

"No need to thank me." 

"Ah, still a dashing knight in shining armour?" Hawke smiled. "Are you finally going to sweep me off my feet?" 

"I see you still haven't changed." Cullen sighed, looking away and rubbing his neck while his cheeks took on a faint red tinge. 

"Neither have you it seems." Hawke's smile grew as she beamed at him. "I can still make you blush." 

"And I can still remember you taking every opportunity to do so." Cullen smiled despite himself, seeing some of the old Hawke returning. Her blue eyes were slightly brighter, barely noticeable but the change was there. Her beautiful smile had enraptured him the first time he had seen it, just after she had saved him from a host of demons. Seeing it once again caused minor butterflies to break out in his stomach, which he quickly quenched. _'Get a grip man.'_

"It's... good to see you doing well Cullen." Hawke said. She had always recognised him for what he was in Kirkwall: a good man dealt several bad hands through his life. Also, she had found herself staring at his handsome features when visiting the gallows, quickly closing those feelings down when they arose. A knight Captain and a mage? Not possible. "Leaving the Templars has done you good." 

"It has." He replied quietly, nodding absently. 

"Oh, I have something for you." Hawke said suddenly, trying to rise from bed. She sat upright and winced, taking a sharp intake of breath. 

"Slow down, you're still injured." Cullen said, standing and offering his hand. "Allow me." He offered gently. 

"Uh, thanks." Hawke took his hand and allowed him to help her stand, finding herself trapped in his intense gaze. _'Oh my...'_

"What did you have to show me?" His question snapped Hawke out of her daze, and she looked away quickly to hide her reddening cheeks. 

"It's in the desk." She said, allowed Cullen to help her hobble across the room. She reached the desk and leaned against it heavily, slightly out of breath. 

"Are you okay?" Cullen asked, looking over her in concern while trying not to linger on her assets. Namely, her round behind in her tight trousers and the ample cleavage visible down the thin shirt she wore. 

"I'm fine." She assured him, reaching for a draw and pulling it open. Inside were several bottles, hand labelled in elvish. "Here, for the headaches." 

"How do..." Cullen began, frowning. 

"Cullen, I spent enough time in Darktown to see all the Ex-Templars." She said. "You're not taking lyrium." Seeing him stiffen, she placed a hand on his arm. "Don't worry, I won't tell anyone." 

"You won't?" He asked, the fear that had crawled up his spine dissipating. 

"I respect what you're doing." Hawke said. "But you shouldn't turn away help when it's offered. These potions should last for a while, just add a few drops in some tea or soup. They're a Dalish recipe, a gift from Merril." 

"I... thank you." He said eventually, words genuine. 

"Looks like we're even now." Hawke smiled. "What a pair we make eh? Addicted and traumatised." 

"I would say someone should write a book." Cullen smiled back. "But I have a feeling that it's already happened."  


	6. Restraining order

"You want to let this man walk free?" Leliana asked skeptically. 

"Yeah." Hawke yawned, slouched in a chair opposite the advisors. They stood opposite Hawke across the table, looking at her like she was mad. "Care to hurry up? This chair is giving me a numb arse." 

"Had I not intervened, that mob could have killed you, or caused permanent damage." Cassandra frowned. 

"Oh, how'd you figure that out?" Hawke raised an eyebrow. 

"As noble as your mercy is Champion," Josephine intervened smoothly before Cassandra lost her temper. "If this man is allowed to walk free without consequence, more like him will follow." 

"So what do you want to do with him then?" Hawke leaned forward, wincing slightly as she did so. "Take away the house that he doesn't have? Or maybe lock him in a cell for the rest of his life so he can't provide for his starving family." She looked from one advisor to the other, gaze heavy. "He has nothing." 

"She's right." Cullen said, and his colleagues all turned to stare at him. 

"You want this man to get away with nearly killing her?" Cassandra asked. 

"No, but he wasn't the only one to raise his hand against Hawke. Punishing one refugee for the crimes of others will reflect poorly on us." 

"Then what do you suggest Commander?" 

"We let him go quietly. If we draw attention to him, people will start asking questions." Cullen said. 

"Bravo Cullen." Hawke clapped. "Now, can I go?" 

"One last thing." Leliana said. "Before this man is released, I'll have a quick word with him to ensure he stays quiet." She grinned darkly. 

 _'I almost feel sorry for him.'_ Cullen thought. 

"Could someone fetch my trusty Dwarf?" Hawke asked. "He's just the right height to use as a crutch." 

* * *

 

"Raise your shield!" Hawke heard Cullen shout at a recruit. "If this was real, you'd be dead!" The training field was packed with soldiers, most raw recruits running drills. Scattered through ranks were several veteran soldiers and Templars, giving instructions to small groups. Commander Cullen stood at the centre, eyes constantly sweeping the mass of troops. The afternoon sun reflected off his plate armour, making it shine gold to match his blonde hair. 

 _'Woah.'_ Hawke thought numbly. She sat next to the training field on a boulder, a book lying open and forgotten in her lap. Realising she was staring, Hawke blinked heavily and looked away. _'Come on Marian, you're not some blushing maiden, stop staring.'_ She picked up her book once again, trying in vain to concentrate on the words in front of her. 

"Feet wider!" Cullen shouted, and her eyes raised once again to stare. Gone was the softly spoken and slightly shy man who had visited her cabin the night before. Instead, Commander Cullen practically radiated power and authority. Recruits scrambled to impress when they felt his gaze on them, and breathed a sigh if relief as it moved on. "Lieutenant, I want these men to form a decent shield wall by the end of the day. If not, they're on latrine duty tonight!" 

"Mmmm." Hawke sighed lightly to herself. 

"Wow." Varric laughed to her left. Hawke whipped her head around, cheeks burning hotly. He stood next to her perch, arms crossed and grinning like a cat that got into the cream. 

"Why the fuck are you sneaking up on me?" She demanded. 

"I didn't. You were so transfixed on Curly a herd of druffalo could have ran past without you noticing." 

"What can I say say?" Hawke shrugged, regaining her composure. "I'm a sucker for a man in armour." 

"Funny, never noticed you ogling him like that in Kirkwall." 

"I admired the view from time to time." Hawke smiled. "Anyway, get what I asked for?" 

"Yeah." Varric sighed, holding up a bottle of brandy. "I'm only feeding your habit while you're injured, then you're on your own."

"Thanks partner." She winked as she took the bottle.  

"Want some company?" 

"Nah, I'm alright on my own. Now stop trying to use me to weasel out of that merchants guild work." 

"Me? Never." Varric chuckled, turning and walking away. Hawke looked over to the training field once again, and saw Cullen staring in her direction. He quickly looked away when their eyes met, moving to instruct a recruit.

 _'Huh. Wonder what he was staring at.'_ She uncorked the bottle in her hands and raised it to her lips, freezing when familiar, heavy footsteps sounded from her right. _'_ _Oh for fucks sake.'_ Hawke turned to watch Cassandra approach. The Seeker stood over Hawke, shadow blocking out the sun. "Yes?" Cassandra didn't say a word before reaching down and snatching the bottle from Hawke's hands. "Hey, what the fuck?!" 

"This ends now." Cassandra said resolutely, spinning on her heel and marching away. 

"What, you expect me to live like a chantry sister?!" Hawke yelled after her. 

"No." Cassandra called over her shoulder. "I expect you to restrain yourself and behave as a Champion should." 

"I didn't ask to be made Champion, this isn't fair!" Hawke shouted, but Cassandra ignored her and continued walking. Hawke started to rise from her seated position, but the pain in her ribs and leg caused from the movement made her slump back down, defeated. "Bitch." 


	7. More important matters

"Not a chance grumpy." Hawke shook her head. 

"The Chantry cannot be ignored." Cassandra looked ready to burst. "We leave for Orlais tomorrow." 

"Nope. You can go yourself if they mean that much to you, but I don't feel like being mobbed again." Hawke crossed her arms. It had been a long week for Hawke, being cut off from alcohol while she was unfit to steal or purchase it herself. Now that she had recovered, the advisors had informed her that the Chantry was trying to draw her to Val Royaux. 

"We would have agents in place to ensure your safety." Leliana said, hands joined behind her back. 

"What, you think they could fight the whole city?" Hawke scoffed. "I don't know if you've realised this, but there are quite a few people who want me dead or locked up. The Chantry is at the top of that list." 

"It is a risk, true." Josephine interjected smoothly. "But if you present yourself to the Chantry in good faith and assure them of your noble intentions, it will cause some to question what they have heard." 

"Right." Hawke raised an eyebrow. "And when would I assure them of my _noble intentions_ , before or after my face gets stomped on by a Templar boot?"

"Mother Giselle said that the Chantry's only power is it's united voice, and that spreading doubt among them will aid our cause." Cullen added. "While this is true, even a lone cleric could incite a mob against the Herald with little effort." 

"It's happened a few times." Hawke nodded. 

"How many times?" Cassandra asked. 

"Enough to make me avoid large towns. Or anywhere with a Chantry for that matter." 

"So you're refusing to go?" 

"Indeed I am." Hawke grinned. "The Chantry isn't anywhere near as important as it thinks it is. There's still refugees and rifts out in the Hinterlands." 

"The Chantry..." Cassandra began, anger rolling off her tongue. 

"Can wait." Hawke interrupted her. 

"There is another option." Cullen said, and everyone's eyes landed on him. "We received a messenger yesterday, representing a mercenary company called the Bull's chargers. He said that his employer is interested in helping us, and offered a demonstration." 

"Demonstration?" Josephine asked. 

"A group of Tevinter slavers have been shipwrecked on the storm coast." Cullen explained, while Hawke grinned. "He invited you to join him in attacking them." 

"Well, that's settled then." Hawke nodded. "And while we're doing that, Cassandra can go and meet the Chantry. Win win." 

"Do not think you can escape that easily." Cassandra shook her head. "I will accompany you to the storm coast." 

"Oh for fucks sake..." 

* * *

"You know I hate the rain Hawke." Varric grumbled as the group trudged through the storm coast.  

"I know. You mention it every time there's a drizzle." Hawke nodded. 

"Why didn't you warn me it would be this wet?" 

"Did the name 'storm coast' not give you a clue?" Hawke chuckled. "You're getting slow in your old age." 

"Yeah right, I can hear your knees creaking from here." Varric shot back. 

"Is the constant verbal sparring necessary?" Solas rolled his eyes. 

"It's what friends do." Hawke said without turning around. "Do you even have friends?" 

"Yes, but they aren't the kind to insult me on a daily basis." 

"They sound awful." 

"The mercenary camp should be close by." Cassandra said. 

"Speaking of awful..." Hawke muttered. Only Varric heard, and he hid his laughter behind a hand. 

"That's the camp." Solas pointed out a small encampment ahead of them inside a cave. 

"Well why don't we go and say hello?" Hawke said brightly as she marched forward, a couple of sentries spotting her and readying bows. She held her hands up as she walked, the bright green magic from her mark crackling. Seeing this, one of the sentries went inside the cave while the other walked forward to meet them. 

"Wait here, boss'll meet you in a moment." The man said.

"Will he now?" Hawke raised an eyebrow. "I should hope so, we travelled a long way. We'd be awfully disappointed if he didn't show up." 

"Right." The sentry looked baffled. 

"Don't mind her." Varric chuckled. A huge Qunari emerged from the cave entrance, followed by the rest of his company.

"I wonder which one is the Iron Bull?" Hawke said as they approached. 

"He's..." The sentry began. 

"I know which one he is you idiot." Hawke cut him off. The Iron Bull stopped before Hawke and studied her for a moment, while she idly gazed back. 

"Herald of Andraste." He offered his hand, which she took. 

"Iron Bull." She replied cooly, keeping her professional composure for all of three seconds before the grin broke out on her face. "I gotta admit, you're pretty fucking badass." Bull laughed and nodded. 

 _'It's definitely her.'_ He thought. "Vints are just over that ridge, still game?" 

"Definitely." 

* * *

When news from Kirkwall had reached Par Vollen that a lone female mage had bested the Arishock in single combat, Bull had been among the many who's jaw had dropped. He thought it impossible, until now. Hakwe appeared slightly different from the description he had been given, but the reports about her power and effectiveness on the battlefield were certainly true. 

"Three trying to flank left!" Krem shouted, and Bull whipped his head around to see the small group of slavers peeling off from the main melee. A fireball soared over the fighting and slammed into the ground next to the slavers, exploding in a flash of orange light. They only had time to scream as their bodies were blasted apart, and Bull looked towards the source of the fireball. Hawke span her staff lazily in one hand as she stood in the centre of the chaos, using short, quick lightning bolts to blast any slavers that got too close. Those that tried to run from the battle or flank the chargers found themselves on the receiving end of a fireball. Bull returned his attention to the battle when a slaver charged him, and he dodged backwards to avoid a wild sword swing. He blocked a few more strikes with his axe, then grabbed the man's sword arm and wrenched it to the side. He screamed as his shoulder was dislocated, dropping to the floor as Bull raised his axe. 

"Wait!" He tried to plead, but Bull's axe brought a swift end to the conversation. He focoused his attention on Hawke once again, noting her eyes. Bull had seen through her humour in the camp, and the sadness it tried to hide. Wheras her eyes had seemed empty merely a short time ago, they were now razor sharp and focused.  

"Varric, down!" She shouted and the dwarf obeyed without question, dropping to the ground as Hawke span her staff around and directed a lightning bolt at the slaver about to stab him in the back. The slaver was hit square in the chest, and flew back several metres. The battle came to a close, Bull's men hurrying to help their wounded and kill any surviving slavers. Hawke meanwhile approached Bull and smiled. "Nice work, your guys know what they're doing." 

"That they do." Bull nodded. "Now that all the pleasantries are done, can we talk alone?" 

"That's what we're doing now isn't it?" Hawke crossed her arms, hips cocking. "Besides, I don't exactly trust someone who watches me in a fight instead of joining in." 

 _'So then, she's more observant than she looks.'_ Bull thought before speaking. "That's what I wanted to talk about." He said as he sat on a nearby rock. 

"I hope you aren't going to ask me to marry you." Hawke raised an eyebrow. "Because it's happened before, and I wasn't happy." 

"Nothing of the sort." Bull assured her. "But what I have to say might piss you off." 

"Oh goody." 

"I'm offering my company to the Inquisition. We know you need help, and we're good at what we do." Bull started. 

"Okay, still waiting to be pissed off." 

"You won't just get my boys, you'll also get me as a frontline bodyguard." 

"Get on with it." 

"And this is where things get difficult." Bull sighed. "Ever hear of the Ben Hassrath?" At this, Hawke froze. 

"Let me guess." She said after a moment. "You're here to avenge your Arishok?" Bull noticed that her hands were itching towards her staff, fire dancing between her fingertips, so he held his hands up. 

"No. The Arishok fucked up in Kirkwall, we've moved on." Bull said. "That's not why I'm here." 

"Well you'd better start explaining." 

"The Ben Hassrath are worried about the breach. They ordered me to infiltrate the Inquisition and get close to those in charge, then send reports back to them. But I also receive Ben Hassrath reports from across the world." 

"So what are you proposing?" 

"I join you, and let the Ben Hasstrath know what's happening by sending them my reports, after your spymaster has checked them naturally. In return, I'll give you access to all Ben Hassrath reports I receive." Bull finished and sat back, waiting while Hawke studied him. 

"Will the Qunari invade if the breach isn't closed soon?" She asked. 

"They're worried about the amount of magic involved, so it's a possibility. But if they get regular reports from me, that'll keep them away." Bull said. Hawke studied him for a moment longer, then held her hand out with a grin. 

"I can't tell if you're the best spy I've ever met, or the worst." She said. "But you can make a sales pitch, I'll give you that." 

"So are we good?" Bull asked as they shook. 

"Yeah, we're good, but I'll let you explain yourself to the others when we get back. They might not be as friendly as I am." 

"Excellent." Bull grinned, standing and looking around until he spotted his lieutenant. "Krem, break open the casks!" 

"Now you're talking." Hawke smiled, walking with Bull towards the waiting chargers and her party. 


	8. Remember when.....?

"A Qunari spy?" Cassandra whispered harshly. "You intend to let a Qunari spy join the Inquisition?" 

"Yes. Is there a problem?" Hawke grinned. Cassandra had pulled Hawke out of their shared camp with the chargers just after the sun had set, the sky clear now that they had moved away from the coast. 

"I do not believe this. Bull cannot be trusted." Cassandra shook her head. "He will leave us tomorrow willingly, or be driven out." 

"You don't seem to understand the situation." Hawke lost her smile, and Cassandra was surprised by the Champion's sudden change in tone. "The Qunari are watching the breach. If it looks like we can't handle the situation ourselves, they'll invade, and convert us all to the Qun while they're at it." 

"You are certain of this?" Cassandra frowned. 

"I've spent enough time around the Qunari to know what I'm taking about." Hawke crossed her arms. "I had a long talk with Bull while you were sending your angry letters about me to Leliana. He doesn't want the Qunari to invade, that's why he's helping us." 

"Helping by spying on us. I fail to see the benefit." 

"He's giving us access to Ben Hassrath intelligence, and the Qunari are _really_ don't like sharing their stuff." Hawke countered. "And by sending them reports, it keeps their plans for an invasion at bay." 

"I see." Cassandra paused. "It seems that you have thought this through." 

"If the Qunari invade, we won't be able to stop them." Hawke's eyes took on a far away look. "There wasn't even a fraction of their army in Kirkwall, but the city still didn't stand a chance." 

"Until you stood in their way." Cassandra said. "Please Hawke, Thedas needs that woman again. You are capable of so much more than just waiting for your next bottle." 

"That woman isn't here anymore." Hawke shook her head as she walked away. "She died fighting the Arishok." She called sullenly over her shoulder, leaving Cassandra alone. 

* * *

Hawke groaned as she dismounted her horse at the Haven stables, the aches and pains of the long journey setting in. The sun was beginning to set behind the mountains, casting a warm orange glow across the snow. 

"Feeling your age yet Hawke?" Varric chuckled as he dismounted next to her. 

"Be able to use human furniture, then we'll talk about age short arse." Hawke grumbled as she stretched, trying to work the kinks out of her body. "Feel like my bastard shoulder is about to give in." 

"All those years swinging a staff around." Varric said. "You should have let me teach you archery instead." 

"I know the real reason you wanted to teach me archery." Hawke shook her head as they walked towards the Chantry, spotting Bull be intercepted by Leliana. "So you could have bragging rights. 'The dwarf who taught the Champion how to shoot' would sell a few more books." 

"Am I so predictable?" 

"More than you know dwarf." She chuckled. "Remember that time when we...." 

"Your kind killed the Divine!" Someone shouted, and the pair froze. Ahead of them, a large crowd of mages and Templars faced off against one another, tension thick in the air. 

"No!" A mage stepped forward and squared off against the offending Templar. "Your kind let her die!" 

"Shut your mouth mage!" The Templar roared, reaching for his sword, several of his comrades followed suite. In response, power started building in the mage's hands, readying themselves for the fight. Before a battle could break out, Commander Cullen barged into the centre of the crowd and grabbed the lead Templar's sword arm. 

"Restrain yourself!" Cullen roared, and the crowd fell silent. Cullen, an Ex-Templar, had placed his exposed back towards a crowd of angry mages, making him an easy target should they decide to attack. His short act of faith gave the mages pause however, and the they backed down while the Templars looked as if the Maker himself had returned to give them a scolding. With Cullen's reputation amongst the order, this was no surprise.

"Knight captain..." The Templar tried, but froze when Cullen loomed above him, and it looked as if the Commander was ready to snap. 

"That is no longer my title." He said, fury lacing his words. "We are all members of the Inquisition. We stand together under one banner, as comrades in arms." He calmed slightly, releasing the Templar and addressing the crowd. "This will not happen again. Now return to your duties!" He barked, and the crowd quickly dispersed, the Templars and mages hurrying in opposite directions. 

"Well, shit." Varric said. "I've got some letters to write, see you later Hawke." He walked away, leaving Hawke to approach Cullen. The Commander watched her approach, nodding when she stopped in front of him. 

"Herald." He greeted, taking a deep breath to calm down. 

"Hawke." She corrected him. "What was all that about?" 

"The Templars and mages were already at each other's throats." He sighed, rubbing his forehead in a vain attempt to quell the onset of a headache. "Now, they blame each other for the Divine's death." 

"You handled it well." Hawke said, frowning slightly at how ill he looked. "Potions not working?" 

"They work, thank you." He said. "But I..." 

"Work from dawn till dusk and forget to take them?" Hawke guessed, smiling slightly at his guilty face. "Come now, the mighty Commander of the Inquisition can't be felled by a simple headache."

"There is much work to be done, my health is unimportant." Cullen tried, and Hawke sighed.

"Almost as stubborn as Carver." She muttered, before gesturing for Cullen to follow her. "Come on."

"Where are we going?" Cullen frowned, cautiously following.

"Your tent. You're going to take a dose of Merril's potion, or I'll keep annoying you till you do. All night if need be." 

"If it were anyone else, I would call their bluff." Cullen sighed sullenly. "But I know you're serious." The pair drew numerous stares as they walked through Haven together, people pointing and whispering to each other. The attention made Cullen slightly uncomfortable. He glanced at Hawke, and she appeared to share his views, as she uneasily glanced between the people watching her. 

"I wish people would just mind their own fucking business." Hawke muttered to herself, Cullen overhearing. 

"I couldn't agree more." Cullen said, and Hawke looked up at him in shock. 

"Shit, did I say that out loud?" 

"It seems you did." He replied, a small smile tugging at his lips. 

"I'm losing my mind." She said as they arrived at the command tent, Cullen lifting the flap and allowing Hawke to enter first. "Why thank you good sir." She said dramatically, putting on her noble voice. "Whatever would a lady like me do without a dashing knight such as you?" 

"I see that you can still act like a lady." Cullen sighed as he walked around his desk, taking a seat. "Unfortunately for you, I've seen you drink." 

"Oh?" Hawke asked as she sat opposite him, a smile playing at her lips. "When was this?" 

"Hanged man, a few years ago." Cullen recalled, pulling a pair of glasses out of a draw in his desk, along with a bottle of brandy. "I went in with a team of Templars, investigating reports of apostates hiding there." 

"Oh, I think I know where this is going." Hawke chuckled, then gestured to the brandy as Cullen poured two glasses. "And I like where this is going." 

"We didn't find any apostates, only a drunk Ferelden woman stood on a table over two unconscious men, an empty bottle in each hand." He handed the glass over, Hawke smiling. 

"They thought that if they bought me a few drinks I'd sleep with them." She explained. "Idiots couldn't keep up with me, along with their coin purses." Cullen smiled as she took a sip of the brandy, closing her eyes as the liquid burned down her throat. Cullen added two drops of the potion to his glass before taking a sip. 

"I take it you pulled this off a few times?" 

"Eventually I ran out of admirers and had to buy my own drinks." She chuckled. "But it was fun while it lasted." 

"Those were simpler times." Cullen said quietly, looking into his glass. 

"Yeah. Oh, and there were apostates hiding there that night." Hawke said, and Cullen's head snapped up, shocked. "False wall behind the whiskey barrel in the cellar." She explained, grinning. 

"I knew something didn't seem right." He sighed, drinking another mouthful of brandy along with Hawke, a comfortable silence settling between them. 

"Not that I'm complaining about this side of you..." Hawke said eventually. "But you don't seem the type to drink when there's work that needs doing. Anything wrong?" 

"Nothing." Cullen said, then looked up into Hawke's concerned eyes. She seemed to look right through him, so he relented with a sigh. "The incident earlier, with the Templars. Next time there is a disagreement, I may not be able to stop it from erupting into a bloodbath." 

"Oh don't worry, you will." Hawke assured him, leaning forward slightly. "The way those Templars looked at you, it was as though Andraste was about to give them a good spanking." She paused. "And putting your back to the mages was brave. It showed them that you're not afraid of them, which is refreshing for an apostate, believe me." Hawke finished her glass, reaching for the bottle and refilling it. She offered the bottle to Cullen, but he refused with a shake of his head. "That's all apostates need, someone to place some trust in us, if only a little." 

"I will do all in my power to ensure the safety of the mages here." Cullen said. "I only wish that I did so in Kirkwall." 

"You've changed Cullen." Hawke studied him for a moment. "For the better. Considering what happened, it's obviously taken some serious guts." 

"As have you." Cullen replied quietly, looking into Hawke's tired eyes. She looked down into her glass, shoulders sagging slightly. She then smiled, looking up to meet his gaze once again. 

"It's funny. If I told my past self that I'd be sat here having a deep, meaningful conversation with you, she'd probably slap me." Hawke chuckled, while Cullen smiled. 

"As would my past self. I couldn't ever have imagined speaking to the woman who launched tomatoes at my office window in the middle of the night." He said, and now it was Hawke's turn to look shocked.  

"How...?" 

"I figured it out fairly quickly. Who else would have the audacity?" Cullen smiled, the brandy leaving a warm glow across his body. The potion was taking effect, and he hadn't felt so relaxed in days. _'Since I last spoke to her in fact...'_

"Fair enough, well played." Hawke laughed, the rare sound music to his ears. "Why didn't you do anything about it?" 

"I knew that you would deny the crime, and that Varric would spin the perfect alibi for you. So I waited, hoping you would eventually grow bored if I didn't react." 

"And how did that work out for you?" She raised an eyebrow, grinning from ear to ear. 

"You do not bore easily." Cullen grunted, then paused. "How many hundreds of tomatoes were wasted on my window?" He asked. 

"Oh, about three hundred." Hawke said casually, refilling her glass. "They weren't fresh though. I bought them from a struggling Lowtown market stall every couple of days." 

"At least it was for a good cause." Cullen sighed, smiling. "It's growing late, I shouldn't take up any more of your time." He said. Hawke looked like she wanted to say something else, but froze and nodded instead. 

"Right, you've got loads of work." She said quickly, and Cullen studied her. 

_'Is she... disappointed?'_ He wondered as she stood. 

"Night Cullen." Hawke said, exiting the tent. 

"Goodnight Hawke." He said, hearing nothing in return. _'Did she want to stay longer?'_ He pondered, before shaking his head and grabbing the nearest report. _'Of course not.'_ Cullen tried to bury himself in his work, but for the first time found himself unable to focus. After an hour of staring at the same page, he retired to his bunk and covered his face with a cool cloth, bright blue eyes and long dark hair the last thing he saw before he fell into an uneasy sleep. 


	9. The Lion's den

Cassandra stalked towards the training field, spotting her target. The moon was high in the clear night sky, illuminating Hawke. The Champion stood in the centre of the field, struggling to stand straight on shaky legs. Her feet were surrounded by smashed glass, and several empty bottles. 

"Hey, anyone up there?" She called to the moon, throwing her arms out wide and almost falling. She recovered herself and yelled at the moon again. "Oi, you selfish prick, answer!" 

"Hawke!" Cassandra barked. 

"Fuck off, I'm busy." Hawke said, shooting a glare at Cassandra before focusing on the sky again. 

"What do you think you are doing?" Cassandra demanded. 

"Telling the Maker that he's a cunt." She shrugged, head tilting to the side slowly to stare at the Seeker. "Maybe I'll get lucky and he'll hit me with a thunderbolt to shut me up." She looked up again. "Hear that arsehole? Free shot, go for it!"

"Enough!" Cassandra grabbed Hawke's arm forcefully. 

"Oh here she comes." Hawke laughed, eyes narrowing. "The heroic Seeker, here to catch the dangerous apostate." 

"Stop this madness." Cassandra said firmly, slightly alarmed at how unhinged Hawke appeared to be. 

"I wonder, have you moved past your hate for mages, or is it just buried deep down?" Hawke said, before her hand lit up with flame. It was only small, but Cassandra immediately backed away and silenced Hawke's magic, hand going for the hilt of her sword instinctively. "Well there we have it." Hawke grinned crookedly, taking a step back and holding her hands out. "The predator shows it's fangs." 

"Hawke, stop this." Cassandra took her hand away from her sword. 

"Stop what? I was just minding my own business until you came along." Hawke said. "But of course an apostate can't be left unattended, I'd end up doing some blood magic." She paused and took a deep breath, looking up into the sky again. "Why won't you just kill me!?" She screamed at the moon, picking up an empty bottle and throwing it into the air, before sitting down heavily. The bottle landed somewhere behind her and smashed, the shards scattering across the mud and glittering in the moonlight. "Do you know what it's like?" Hawke said after a pause, not looking up at Cassandra, who was speechless. 

"What?" The Seeker said eventually. 

"Trying your hardest, giving everything you possibly have and more, and still not making a difference." 

"You have made a difference." 

"Have I?" Hawke laughed drunkenly. She then stood slowly on shaky legs and fixed Cassandra with a glare. "Word of advice. Next time I'm howling at the moon like a crazy person, leave me be." 

"You require help." The Seeker replied seriously. "If you are to represent the Inquisition..." 

"If you don't like the way I behave, fire me." Hawke said as she stumbled past. "It's not like I care." 

"If you truly care so little, why are you still here?" Cassandra challenged her, and Hawke came to a halt. "If you have nothing but self loathing to offer, why remain with us?" 

"Because I don't hate the world." Hawke said as she span around. "Actually yes, I do hate the fucking world. Its full of self righteous Chantry cunts like you who want my head on a spike." She poked Cassandra's chest, and the Seeker clenched her jaw. "It's full of killers and thieves and rapists. It's corrupt, brutal and unforgiving." She paused. "But then there's Varric, my idiot brother, and all my other friends. So as long as they're around longer than me, I'll do whatever it takes to protect them."

"What about the thousands of innocents?" 

"We'll see just how innocent they are when I walk into Val Royeaux." Hawke grinned. 

"You will agree to meet the Chantry?" Cassandra asked, shocked. 

"Yeah, why not." Hawke shrugged. "Just be prepared. You'll have to choose between my life, or loyalty to the Chantry." 

"It will not come to that." 

"Never took you for an optimist. Maybe it's the permanent frown." 

* * *

"You sure about this Hawke?" Varric asked nervously. The grand golden gates of Val Royeaux stood open, beckoning the party into the city. The four days of travel had been quiet, Hawke rarely speaking, and only to Varric when she did. 

"Am I sure about this? Fuck no." Hawke said, standing at the head and staring at the gates. She cut an imposing figure, signature armour freshly polished, the black steel plates gleaming darkly under the midday sun. Her bladed staff was holstered on her back, the blade sharpened to a wicked edge. Hawke had also applied red warpaint on her face, a horizontal slash across her nose and circles under her eyes, while more warpaint formed jagged patterns down her unarmoured arm.

"Perhaps it was not wise to arm yourself." Cassandra said, slightly worried at Hawke's fearsome appearance. A crowd could be heard cheering, and Hawke cracked her knuckles slowly. 

"They wouldn't see me as anything other than a monster even if I showed up in a silly pink frock." Hawke shook her head, then fixed Cassandra with a bone chilling grin. "So I might as well play the part." 

"Well said." Solas smiled lightly. 

"Okay Hawke." Varric sighed. "If they go for you, they'll have to trample over me to get to you. It won't take them long mind you, I'm only small." Despite his attempt at humour, he couldn't hide the nervousness in his voice. He knew that Hawke was powerful enough to hold the crowd back single handedly. She was far more powerful than she let on, easily matching any grand enchanter, but whether she would defend herself at all was uncertain. 

"Love you too Varric." Hawke said genuinely, beaming at him. "Now what are we waiting for? There's a city full of people who want to lynch me, let's not keep them waiting." The party walked forward, through the gates and into the Lion's den. They were instantly met by an Inquisition agent. 

"Lady Cassandra." He said quickly. "There's a large crowd waiting for the Herald. We have agents in place throughout the main square, bet we won't be able to stop them if they decide to attack." 

"Excellent!" Hawke smiled at him and marched past. The agent looked to Cassandra in shock, and the Seeker shook her head.

"We will face them. Report to Leliana, tell her what is happening." 

"Right away lady Cassandra." The agent hurried away. "Maker be with you." He called over his shoulder. The noise from the crowd was deafening as they moved deeper into the city. A Chantry sister stood on a platform at the edge of the main square, preaching to a crowd easily numbering a thousand people. Hawke and her party moved towards the back of the crowd, stopping several metres away. 

"This so called Inquisition is a shameful grab for power!" The sister yelled, the crowd responding eagerly. "They proclaim that the Champion of Kirkwall, the monster responsible for the mage rebellion, is the Herald of our beloved Andraste!" 

"Heresy!" Several people screamed. Hawke sighed and leaned on her staff, the blade biting into the concrete below her. 

"Excuse me?" Hawke called over the noise of the crowd, and several people turned to stare in astonishment. "I believe someone here wanted to speak to me?" 

"That's her there!" Someone yelled, and soon the crowd was in upheaval. They turned, crushing against each other in a wild press of bodies to get a glimpse of the heretic. Several people pushed forward to attack her, while some tried to move in the opposite direction. The Chantry sister pointed at Hawke, bellowing over the noise of the crowd. 

"Here, I give you the so called Herald of Andraste!" She roared. "A Heretic, a monster, a...." 

" _Enough!_ " Hawke roared unnaturally loud, using magic to project her voice as she slammed the tip of her staff into the ground, cracking the concrete. A powerful shockwave rippled through the crowd, driving them back a step. The crowd fell silent, stunned at her power. Even Cassandra took a step back, and Solas peered at Hawke curiously. 

 _'She is the most naturally powerful human mage I have ever encountered.'_ He thought. The Champion marched forward, an aura of raw power surrounding her. The still silent crowd parted for her as she walked towards the platform. Several Templars waited with the Chantry sisters, gripping the hilts of their swords tightly and exchanging worried glances. 

" **Is this what you want?** " Hawke asked, staring at the Chantry sisters and brothers as she approached. " **To spread fear and hatred?** " Her voice was being projected across the crowd, and her aura was still keeping them in check. 

"You falsely claim to be Andraste's chosen!" The lead sister tried to gain ground back, alarmed that her mob was allowing the Champion to approach. 

" **I made no such claims.** " Hawke said as she reached the foot of the pedestal. She then turned and pointed at the breach, clearly visible in the otherwise clear blue sky. " **The sky is torn open. Take action against those responsible, not those trying to help.** " 

"A heretical movement..." 

" **Is it heresy to shelter refugees?** " Hawke challenged her. " **To give them protection and shelter while you sat here preaching hate to the masses?** " She climbed up to stand next to the sister, several Templars taking a step forward. " **If you beleive I'm guilty of whatever crimes you accuse me of, order your Templars to strike me down.** " Hawke said, and several people in the crowd began calling. 

"Kill her!" 

"She's guilty!" 

"Do it!" They shouted, as Hawke leaned in close to the sister. 

"Listen to your mob." Hawke said to her, voice normal once again, accusing eyes staring right through her. "Listen to them. Look at the hatred in their eyes." The sister glanced at the crowd, taken aback by the fury rolling off them in waves. "Look at their fear. You've made them afraid, and soon they'll spiral out of your control. First it will be me they kill in the name of the Maker, then the elves, then all the other races." The sister's eyes widened slightly as she stared out over the crowd. Her Templar guards listened to Hawke speak, looking between each other worriedly as they came to the same conclusion. "You know I'm right. But they won't stop there. They'll move on to the rich, and the Chantry. Are you sure you want to be responsible for the bloodbath you're about to unleash?" 

"I..." The sister said, freezing. Templars around her formed a defensive circle as several people tried to rush the platform. The Chantry brothers and sisters were beginning to panic now that the mob was out of their control. 

"You'd better stop them soon." Hawke grinned darkly. "Because they're almost finished waiting for your say so." 

"Good people of Val Royeaux!" The sister called, raising her arms to try and calm the crowd. They didn't respond, and more people were trying to storm the platform. Scores of people were also trying to escape the crush of bodies, and people were trampled in the rush. 

"Too late." Hawke said to the sister. She then turned to the Templars on the platform. "Well boys, looks like this is it. A few hundred people are about to rush this platform, and trample your precious sisters and brothers to get to me." The knights stared at Hawke, who continued. "Now, I'm a dangerous apostate who can't use my magic, so it's up to you to defend them. Your best chance is to form a defensive circle and back away slowly. If you turn your back, the mob will rush you." 

"A crowd of the righteous will not harm us." A Templar said pompously. "It is you who shall be executed by the will of the Maker." 

"They're defending her, take them!" Someone in the crowd roared, and several Templars at the bottom of the platform were swamped. 

"Defensive circle, now!" Another knight barked as the first Templar paled under his helmet. Hawke slipped into the middle of the circle as it backed off the platform, next to the lead sister. 

"Don't mind if I join you, do you?" Hawke asked casually. The sister didn't respond, staring in horror at her creation. "Yeah, messy business. Now, while we're here, about to die together, can I ask you not to start any more rumours about me?" 

"We're going to die?" The sister asked weakly. 

"Of course we are." Hawke responded brightly. "Lovely day for it." 

"You're mad." A brother said. 

"Most certainly. Now, the breach still needs closing and the Inquisition can't do that while you're hounding us." Hawke talked casually as if they were discussing politics over a picnic. "So, I'm asking nicely, will you let me do my job?" 

"If we're going to die here, what does it matter?" A brother asked as the group backed into a side street, the harbour behind them. Several people from the mob charged the knights, but were quickly driven back. The main body if the crowd was massing at the end of the street, preparing to charge. 

"We're trapped in here, we'll be overwhelmed." One Templar said grimly. 

"Just step back and watch tin man." Hawke cracked her knuckles, then threw her arms up, summoning a barrier in front of the mob as it tried to rush them. They couldn't penetrate the barrier, and Hawke grunted in effort as she held it. 

"How long can you hold that?" The lead sister asked. 

"Depends." Hawke gritted her teeth. "Are you going to keep on being a hindrance, or help us?" A bead of sweat formed on her forehead. 

"We were wrong." A brother said quickly. "You won't hear anything from us again." 

"Most likely, because we'll all be dead soon." Hawke laughed weakly. 

"You can't hold them?" The lead sister asked in horror. 

"Never expected to survive this long, so this part of the plan isn't very thought out." 

"Maker, save us." A sister sobbed. 

"Maker won't fucking save you." Hawke said. "I will. Now shut your trap, I need to concentrate." 


	10. Rules were made to be broken

Hawke was about to drop. She had held the barrier for almost an hour, keeping the still raging crowd at bay. 

"I've never seen anyone maintain a barrier of this power for so long." A Templar said in astonishment. Hawke didn't reply, eyes scrunched closed in concentration. She dropped to one knee, and the lead sister kneeled next to her. 

"This is going to kill her." Another Templar said grimly. 

"Maybe she is the Herald." A brother said quietly. 

"Careful." One of the sisters warned. "What you speak is heresy." 

"Look at her!" He argued. "She's ready to give her life for us. After what we've done." 

"Any moment now, that barrier is coming down." The Templar said. "I can feel it weakening." They all snapped their heads around when a familiar horn blasted through the city, and the crowd began to scatter in a panic. ''The order is here!'' Templars flooded into the square, shields raised and locked together in an unbreakable wall. The mob quickly dispersed, screams sounding as people were trampled in the frenzy. Hawke dropped the barrier, then fell onto her hands with a groan as Templars gathered at the end of the street. 

''Is that the Lord Seeker?'' A Templar gasped as a squad approached. 

''What's your name?'' Hawke mumbled to the sister next to her.

''Lucile.'' The sister replied.

''Okay Lucile, don't let him kill me, eh?'' She said before collapsing completely, landing hard on the stone floor.

''Lord Seeker.'' One of the knights stepped forward, saluting his superior. ''Thank you for your aid.'' As he said this, the other Templars noticed that the Lord Seeker's men had their swords drawn, so gathered around the Clerics and Hawke protectively. 

''So.'' Lucius said, ignoring the knight completely and moving to stand over Hawke. ''This is the so called Herald of Andraste?'' He sneered at the unconscious woman. Lucile had rolled her over into a more comfortable position, and knelt by her side. ''Pathetic.'' He then turned his disgusted gaze onto the Templars and Chantry clerics. ''Protecting a dangerous and heretical apostate? You should be ashamed.'' 

''She was protecting  _us._ '' Lucile said. ''If not for her...'' She cried out when Lucius reached down and slapped her hard across the face, making her Templars take a step back in shock. ''Silence!'' He snapped, before refocusing his attention on the uneasy Knights gathered around Hawke. ''Templars, Val Royeaux is unworthy of our protection. Gather your brothers and sisters, then prepare to march.'' The Knights looked hesitantly at one another, then at the men behind the Lord Seeker, who still had their weapons drawn. ''Was I unclear?'' 

''You were perfectly clear Lord Seeker.'' A female Knight who had been observing silently from the back during the whole ordeal spoke up. ''But I'm staying with the Herald.'' She stepped forward and helped Lucile to her feet, before looking around at her comrades. ''And anyone with any sense will join me.'' 

''Speak carefully.'' Lucius growled, and his men took a step forward.

''Say the word Lord Seeker, and they die.'' One of his men said, prompting the Knights stood over Hawke to draw their swords defensively.The Lord Seeker's men took another step forward to surround him protectively, and stood toe to toe with their comrades. The tension built to a tipping point, until someone called.

''Lord Seeker Lucius!'' Cassandra said as she walked over, Varric and Solas in tow. Lucius turned to glare at Cassandra. 

''You will not address me.'' He spat venomously.

''Lord Seeker?'' Cassandra froze. 

''Creating a heretical movement, placing your obsession as it's Herald?'' He turned back to look at Hawke, and the Templars who still surrounded her. ''Enough. Those who follow the false Herald shall be branded as heretics, not worthy of the order. Templars, we march.'' Lucius then barged past Cassandra, his men falling into step behind him. Varric rushed to Hawke's side with Solas, and the remaining Templars finally sheathed their swords as their comrades abandoned the city. One of the Knights turned to his female comrade and sighed.

''Way to go Evelyn.'' He said flatly. ''We're banished from the Order. Whatever will father think?''

''Come on Max, even you could see that he was unhinged. And father can go blow his horse for all I care.'' Evelyn replied. She then removed her helmet and nodded to Cassandra, running a hand through her shoulder length brown hair. ''Seeker Cassandra, I've heard much about you.'' 

''Thank you for defending the Herald....?'' Cassandra replied. 

''Evelyn Trevelyan, at your service.'' She saluted, then gestured to the man beside her. ''This is my brother, Maxwell.'' 

''What's wrong Chuckles?'' Varric asked as he sat beside Hawke.  

''She is simply exhausted. Maintaining that barrier could have killed her.'' Solas said, casting a simple spell to help keep Hawke stable. ''She will likely be unconscious for days.'' 

''What do we do now?'' Maxwell asked, removing his helmet to reveal his handsome features. 

''Come with us.'' Cassandra offered. ''Join the Inquisition, help put a stop to this madness.'' 

''There's only six of us.'' Evelyn shrugged. ''But we'll do what we can.'' 

''Yeah, thanks for asking the rest of us what we think.'' Maxwell rolled his eyes.

''Evelyn was a lieutenant, we'll follow her.'' One of the other knights said, and the others nodded in agreement. 

'' _Was_ a lieutenant?'' Cassandra frowned slightly. 

''She's not very good at playing by the rules.'' Maxwell grinned. 

''Rules were made to be broken.'' Evelyn shrugged, and Varric smiled lightly. 

''Oh, Curly is going to love you.

* * *

Varric looked up from his letters when someone knocked on Hawke's cabin door, and he stood from her desk to open it. Cullen nodded to him, and Varric sighed. 

''I know what this is about.'' He said, then gestured for Cullen to come in. 

''Cassandra gave us an... interesting report.'' Cullen said as he entered the cabin, looking over at Hawke as he stood in the middle of the room. Her skin was pale, and she'd slept for the full three day journey back. 

''And she sent you to get some answers because Hawke likes you.'' Varric nodded as he sat at her desk once again. 

''Varric, what Hawke did shouldn't be possible for a normal mage.'' Cullen said seriously. 

''We both know she's far from normal Curly.'' Varric shook his head. ''Ask her yourself when she wakes up.''  

* * *

Hawke cracked her eyes open slowly, the tiny movement taking great effort. 

''Hawke?'' Someone asked, but she couldn't summon the energy to turn or speak so settled for a grunt instead. ''It is good you are awake.'' Hawke cursed internally when she recognised Cassandra's voice. 

''She's not ready to answer your questions, she can't even speak.'' Varric said. 

''She must.'' Cassandra barked. ''A human mage who has received no formal training should not be able to harness such power.'' Hawke opened her mouth, and using all of her available energy, formed three words in a croaky voice.

''Fuck... off... prick.'' She managed before dropping into unconsciousness once again.


	11. All is revealed

''Enter!'' Cullen called when someone knocked on the war room door, interrupting the meeting. Evelyn and Maxwell Trevelyan entered, standing in front of the table at attention. 

''Commander.'' Maxwell said. 

''At ease.'' Cullen said, then nodded to Josephine. 

''I believe you have pledged yourself to the Inquisition?'' Josephine asked, and the siblings nodded. ''Ah, good, then there are just a few details we must work out first.''

''Like what?'' Evelyn asked. 

''The Trevelyans are an extremely influential noble family in the Free Marches. Now that you are with us, could we count on any support from your family?'' 

''Maybe.'' Maxwell shrugged uneasily, glancing at his sister.  ''It depends on one thing...'' 

''Not a chance.'' Evelyn said stiffly. 

''Care to explain?'' Leliana raised an eyebrow. 

''Our father wanted Evelyn to marry into another family.'' Maxwell rubbed his jaw while explaining. ''Instead she ran away to join the Templars, and he's disowned her until she agrees to marry.'' 

''So your family's support is based upon a marriage contract?'' Josephine asked. 

''Yes. So you won't be receiving any help from my father.'' Evelyn crossed her arms, clearly uncomfortable with the subject. 

''Unfortunate, but understandable.'' Josephine continued smoothly, nodding to Leliana. 

''I have an inquiry about your demotion, which almost lead to a dishonorable discharge from the order.'' The spymaster said. 

''Ah. Funny story actually....'' Evelyn started as Maxwell shook his head. She was interrupted by a knock on the door, Cassandra barging in soon after. 

''She's waking up.'' 

* * *

Hawke swung her legs out of bed stiffly, wearing only a baggy shirt which reached her knees. 

''Did you strip me down dwarf?'' She asked Varric in a croaky voice. 

''Your undergarments are still on, don't worry.'' Varric said from her desk. ''Nothing I haven't seen before.'' 

''You wish.'' Hawke muttered, groaning as she stretched out her stiff muscles. ''How long?'' 

''Nearly a week. Really pushed it this time.'' Varric stood. 

''Ah shit.'' Hawke rolled her head. ''How long do I have before the cunt brigade comes knocking?'' 

''Not long. Cassandra has been practically sitting over your bed waiting for you to wake up.'' 

''Well, that's a disturbing image.'' 

''Ready to spill the beans?'' 

''Depends how nicely she asks me.'' Hawke shrugged, just as the door burst open. Cassandra and Leliana stalked in, while Cullen stood at the doorway uneasily. ''Anything I can help you with?'' She asked the women who stood over her. 

''Do not play games Hawke.'' Cassandra barked. ''You know why we are here.'' 

''To help me to the toilet? I really need to piss but my legs don't seem to be working at the moment.'' Hawke said, then held up a hand when Cassandra opened her mouth to retort. ''Don't try to interrogate me Seeker. Let me go for a piss, have a bite to eat, then we'll sit down and have a nice friendly chat.'' 

''You think that you are in a position to make demands?'' 

''Yes, because if i don't get to a toilet soon, you're going to get most of the back splash. Your call.'' 

* * *

Leliana studied Hawke from a distance. Despite being unconscious for a week, she still looked drained. Adan had kept her nourished during that time with various potions, ensuring that Hawke suffered no significant weight loss. The Champion sat beside Varric near the training field, devouring a bowl of stew while he updated her on what she'd missed. 

 _'There is far more to her than meets the eye. She deceived us all with her true power levels.'_ Leliana thought. Cullen marched near her perch with the Trevelyans, briefing them on their new tasks. The spymaster noted with curiosity how Hawke's eyes tracked the Commander, and when he drew close she looked away quickly.  _'Interesting, it seems the Champion has a chink in her armour.'_ Varric had also noticed where her eyes lingered, and said something with a wide grin. In response, Hawke threw her empty bowl at his head before marching away in a huff. As the Champion drew closer, Leliana also noticed that her cheeks held a slight red tinge.  _'And she seems to be far softer than she leads everyone to believe.'_

* * *

''Alright, what do you want to know?'' Hawke yawned from across the war table, slouched in a chair. 

''What you did should not have been possible.'' Cassandra leaned forward, clenched fists leaning against the table.

''Well obviously it was possible, or I wouldn't be sat here.'' Hawke rolled her eyes. ''I don't see what the problem is. It was your idea to go into that cluster fuck of a city.'' 

''Grand enchanters train for most of their lives, yet most could not have held that barrier for so long.'' Cullen said. ''You were an apostate, not an enchanter. With no official training, how in the name of the Maker did you grow so powerful?'' 

''You said it yourself, I didn't receive any official training.'' Hawke shrugged. ''Having to use your magic every day to survive is a better lesson than some old fucker in a circle tower could ever give.'' 

''If what you are saying is true, then why aren't there hundreds of high powered apostates running rampant?'' Cassandra asked. 

''I don't know if you've noticed this, but mages tend to be killed on sight these days. Plus, I imagine the most powerful mages in the rebellion have either been killed fighting the Templars or have gone into hiding. That leaves the circle mages, who are quite frankly, pathetic.''

''Pathetic?'' Leliana raised an eyebrow curiously. 

''Have you seen them? They're fucking useless. Still running around in their robes, all fat and scared, following the surviving enchanters like sheep because there's nowhere else to go.'' 

''Let's get back on track.'' Cassandra ended Hawke's rant. ''You claim your power is simply a result of hardship?'' 

''The more you swing a sword, the stronger the sword arm gets. Same rule applies to magic.'' Hawke said. 

''There's more to this.'' Leliana said, slowly walking round the table. ''You are good at hiding things Hawke, and have proved to be far more cunning than you let on.'' 

''Damn, you got me.'' Hawke sighed. ''I wear mens underwear. I've been exposed.'' 

''There is far more to your story, but you are reluctant to say more. '' Leliana stood over Hawke, seeing a slight crack appear in the bored front she was putting up. ''Part of what you say is true. The more a mage uses magic, the more powerful they become. But there is also a limit that you have far surpassed, as did your father.” Leliana smiled knowingly at Hawke, and the Champion's jaw clenched. 

''So what are you saying exactly?'' Hawke stood slowly, all pretense of calmness dropped. The other advisers watched in silence as Hawke squared up to Leliana, a challenge in her gaze. ''I know that you wouldn't have walked in here without doing your research, so tell me spymaster, what's your verdict?''

''Perhaps this is getting out of hand.'' Josephine tried to intervene. 

''She already has her dirt on me.'' Hawke scoffed. ''You're just here to watch the show.'' 

''Hawke did not lie, but she also did not tell the truth.'' Leliana said coolly. ''Hawke's power is natural, but it is not all hers.'' 

''What do you mean?'' Cassandra frowned as Hawke's fist clenched slowly. 

''As you all know, Malcolm Hawke was an apostate. Before he escaped the circle, he conducted several experiments in secret.'' Leliana backed away from Hawke, rejoining her associates on the other side of the table. 

''What kind of experiments?'' Cullen asked, warily studying Hawke, who hadn't taken her eyes off the spymaster. 

''He was studying the transfer of magic from one person to the other.'' Leliana said, and everyone's eyes span towards her. 

''Impossible.'' Cullen said. 

''How do you know this?'' Cassandra asked with wide eyes. ''The Seekers had no knowledge of it.'' 

''That is because the grand enchanter covered it up to avoid the wrath of the Temaplars. However, he made several notes about the experiments in a private journal, which one of my agents recently acquired.''

''How?'' Cullen frowned. 

''Unimportant. From what I can gather, Malcolm intended to transfer his magic into someone or something else, then do the same for any of his children who showed any signs of magic, thus allowing them normal lives.'' 

''You mean to say that he could remove his magic?'' Josephine's jaw dropped. 

''No, it could only be transferred into someone or something else.'' Leliana said, and they all turned to stare at Hawke. 

''You mean...'' Cassandra started, cut off when Hawke broke her silence. 

''He tried to transfer his magic into a rabbit when I was nine. It exploded, so he concluded that he had to try something bigger.'' Hawke said, a far away look in her eyes. ''He went deeper into the woods, and told me to go back to the house. I walked ten steps before he screamed. When I turned, I saw a bear on top of him. It must have been tracking the rabbit, so attacked when it saw father. It bit so far into his arm that it's teeth cut through his bones, then it ripped open his rib cage with its claws.'' The room was silent as Hawke talked. ''He just screamed and screamed, and I could only stand and watch. His last act was to give me his power, which awakened my own magic.'' 

''What happened?'' Josephine asked quietly. 

''I incinerated the bear as if i'd been a mage for years. Ran to him. He held my hand. He couldn't speak. He died.'' Hawke finished, eyes glazing over. ''There you have it, the ugly truth. Now if you don't mind, I don't want to see any of you for a few days.'' She turned and left, walking on shaky legs. Cassandra turned to her colleagues, speechless. 

''It appears that the Herald is hiding demons.'' Josephine said eventually. 

''Aren't we all.'' Cullen said quietly.


	12. Responsibility

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well... it's been a while.

''If what Hawke speaks of is true, there could be major implications.'' Cassandra said, worry etched into her face. ''If the rebel mages found a way to transfer magic...'' 

''It would not be possible.'' Leliana shook her head. ''This research died with Malcolm Hawke. We only know of the truth because I pretended that I knew more than I did.'' 

''You baited her?'' Cullen asked, frowning.

''It was the only way to perceive the whole truth.'' Leliana explained. ''The grand enchanter did make a note of this research, but it lacked any specific details. He only insisted that Malcolm had been successful.” 

“How could it be possible?” Cassandra paced back and forth. “Was it blood magic?” 

“The only detail specified by the grand enchanter was the use of special runes. Other than that I don’t know.” Leliana said. 

“If Malcolm did use runes to transfer his power, that means he would have had to prepare her to receive it prior to the bear attack. Did he intend to give Hawke his magic all along?” Cassandra frowned. 

“It is unlikely.” Cullen shook his head, leaning against the table with both hands. “Malcolm likely prepared Hawke as a last resort if he could not protect his family any longer due to illness or death.” 

“Perhaps it would be wise to finish the meeting here.” Josephine said after a lengthy silence. “We shall convene tomorrow to plan our next move. Madame Vivienne, the Court Enchanter to Empress Celene has invited the Herald to meet her in a week’s time.” 

“Let us hope that Hawke is still with us in a week.” Cassandra sighed.

* * *

''Father.'' Hawke said quietly as she gazed up at the stars, Haven far behind her. She sat with her legs crossed in a small grove, an empty bottle beside her. ''It's been a while since I've... spoken to myself like this. But I hope that you're up there listening with Mother and Bethany. And Geralt, if dogs don't have their own place to go.''

As she spoke Hawke idly ran her thumb over a scar on her shoulder. It looked like any other scar for she had several scattered across her body, but unlike the others this one had a tiny runestone underneath it. While Malcolm had still lived, he also had a small scar in the same place. ''You know I still can't remember when you put this little stone in me, so you must have put drugs in my soup. I guess it was when Mother didn't speak to you for two weeks?'' Hawke smiled, chest clenching. She stayed silent for a few minutes before speaking again.

''I know you did it to protect me, I wasn't mad. I'm pretty sure Mother held that grudge until the end though, she never let anything go.'' She chuckled. ''A couple of months after I got our estate back, she set me up with some Hightown twat and invited him round for dinner without me knowing. After Mother forced me to sit down with him, all he could talk about for fifteen minutes was how he expected me to give him strong children and carry on his family, the sooner the better. I don't know why she was so surprised when I kicked him in the balls and sent him packing.'' She smiled slightly at the memory. ''I was really proud of myself until I turned around and saw Mother's face. By the Maker, that glare alone almost made me run straight out of the door and shag that noble right there in the street.'' Hawke closed her eyes, falling silent again. 

''It was my job to protect the family if something happened to you, and....'' Her breath hitched. ''I failed you. You gave me all of this power, and I still couldn't save them.'' She opened her eyes, a single tear escaping and running down her cheek. ''About half the world wants me dead. Eventually one of them are going to get a lucky shot and I'll be able to see all you again.''

* * *

Cullen agonised over a report in the early hours of the morning. He had tried to turn in early, but after a few hours of nightmare fueled sleep he had risen to take his mind off it. A cup of herbal tea with some of Hawke's potion added to it had took the edge off, but his headache seemed to have no intention of leaving anytime soon. He frowned when he heard footsteps outside the tent, and stood to investigate. Only the perimeter guards were supposed to be awake. Cullen opened the flap of his tent and froze when he saw Hawke walking past, shivering in the cold and blowing into her blue hands. 

''Hawke?'' He called quietly and she turned around, surprised. ''What are you doing at this hour?'' She had only a shirt to keep the cold out. 

''Fell asleep while I was wallowing in self pity.'' Hawke shrugged slightly, teeth chattering as she spoke. 

''I've got hot tea.'' Cullen beckoned into his tent, and after a short moment of hesitation Hawke followed. He held the flap open for her, and she glanced up at him quickly as she brushed past. Hawke stood in the middle of the tent with her arms wrapped around herself while Cullen grabbed a blanket and beckoned to one of the chairs opposite his desk. ''Please, sit.'' After wrapping the blanket around herself gratefully, Hawke sat, a cup of hot tea soon in her hands. 

''Thanks.'' Hawke said quietly. She expected him to sit on the other side of the desk, but to her surprise he pulled up a chair next to her. 

''How are you feeling?'' Cullen asked after she had drank half of the hot drink and her skin had started to return to it's normal shade.

''Warmer.'' She said while staring into her mug, subdued by the cold in her bones. After a stretch of silence she looked up to meet his eyes. ''I know you have questions.''

''No.'' Cullen shook his head. 

''You're not a very good liar.'' 

''I know. But now is not the time.'' Cullen leaned forward slightly. ''Why not use magic to warm yourself?'' 

''I'm not really in the mood for magic right now.'' Hawke looked back down into her cup.  _'I failed to use father's power to save my family, I don't deserve to use it to save myself.'_

''So you'd willingly freeze to death?'' 

''Yeah.'' Hawke said, and Cullen suspected that she wasn't joking. After crying herself to sleep out in the woods and waking up frozen, the combination of the warm blanket and tea made her eyelid's heavy. Eventually Hawke lost the battle to stay awake and drifted off into the fade.


	13. Inconvenient interruptions

Hawke cracked her eyes open slowly, looking around groggily as the sound of clashing steel rung from the training field nearby. 

 _'Where the fuck... Oh yeah, Cullen's tent.'_ She thought. Hawke then swung her legs off the bunk she was lying on, frowning while she sat up.  _'Wait, I fell asleep in the chair. Did... Cullen give me his bed? Damnit, he's just too chivalrous for his own damn good.'_ Hawke ran a hand down her face with a sigh as the tent flap opened. 

''Oh, Hawke.'' Cullen said as he entered, seeming slightly embarrassed. ''Apologies for disturbing you.'' 

''Cullen, I took your bed.'' She shook her head. ''Don't apologise.'' 

''Are you feeling any better?'' He asked, and Hawke shrugged. 

''I'm fine, Leliana just brought up some old pain.'' She looked up at him, eyes unreadable. ''I know how you used to view magic Cullen. What do you think of me, now that you know I'm an experiment?'' 

''I see you in the same light I always have.'' Cullen began, noting how Hawke seemed more repressed, the constant one liners and insults missing. ''The woman who infuriated many to no end, but for the right reasons.'' This drew the ghost of a smile from her. 

''Yeah, I can be a pain in the arse.'' She said as she stood. "Do you really not see me as a freak?" 

The Templar in him practically screamed as he debated her question internally. Hawke's power was unnatural and dangerous. If she were ever possessed the demon produced would be unstoppable.

If the rebel mages or Templars were to find out about the true extent of Hawke's abilities, they would likely use any means necessary of subduing and studying her. 

Yet this was Hawke. The woman who defeated the Qunari almost single handed and stood against the tyrannical Meredith, despite losing her whole family. Who now slouched in front of Cullen, looking up at him with tired blue eyes. It was almost hard to believe that she was an unstoppable force. 

"No." He answered, and Hawke's eyes widened slightly in surprise. 

"Even though you were a Templar?" 

"I was a different man then." He shook his head. "Now the sky has torn open and demons walk the lands. You have proven yourself many times to be worthy of your power, and it matters not to me how you came by it." Cullen surprised even himself with his strong words. 

"Cullen Rutherford." Hawke said. "No wonder the soldiers follow you with speeches like that." It was then that Cullen noticed her slightly husky tone and close proximity, and he found himself trapped in her gaze.

Hawke's blue eyes had taken on a brightness that he hadn't seen since Kirkwall. She tucked several strands of hair behind her ear, smiling almost uncharacteristically bashfully at him as a warm feeling filled her chest.

Cullen picked up on several things that he hadn't noticed in Kirkwall. The faint patch of freckles across her nose and cheeks, The flecks of grey in her startling blue eyes, the single dimple when she smiled. 

Maker, she was beautiful. 

Hawke opened her mouth to say something else, drawing closer ever so slightly before someone barged into the tent. 

"Commander, the report you ordered...." The messenger trailed off as the pair hastily stepped away from each other, cheeks darkening. 

"Thank you Jim, return to your duties." Cullen said stiffly, willing his heart rate to subside along with the heat in his cheeks. The messenger looked between Cullen and Hawke slowly, the latter of which took an interest in the tent wall to hide her reddening cheeks. "Return to your duties." Cullen said again, this time with an edge to his voice. Jim snapped out of his daze and hastily retreated from the tent. 

"You've got to get back to work." Hawke said as she brushed past quickly. "See you later Cullen." Before he could even respond she was gone, and Cullen sighed as he sat at his desk to mull over the conversation.

He wasn't blind, only a fool could have missed the look Hawke gave him, if only for a moment. What concerned him was the fact that he could have stood there for hours while she looked at him like that. 

Maker's breath, he had feelings for Hawke. The Champion. The Herald. Shit.


	14. Challenges, cakes and champagne

“So who is Madame what’s her face, and why is she so important?” Hawke asked Varric as they rode side by side. 

“I already explained this to you.” Cassandra barked from behind. “These games are not amusing Hawke.” For the past few days Hawke had been ignoring the Seeker on their way to Madame de Fer’s party. Varric wasn’t sure how long she was going to keep it up, but so far it was looking like a while. 

“Enchanter and advisor to Empress Celene.” Varric answered, humouring her. He knew she was only asking to annoy Cassandra. 

“Sounds boring.” Hawke yawned. 

“Goes by Madame de Fer, the lady of iron.” He said dramatically. Solas scoffed slightly behind him. 

“Sounds promising.” Hawke smiled. Varric knew that the grin she wore wasn’t all genuine. The atmosphere in Haven between the advisors and Hawke had been tense after her past was revealed.

While Bull And Solas had been left out of the loop, they had both noticed the change in atmosphere. They both assumed that the cause was her unnatural power, but couldn’t do anything but guess. 

“Hawke, you must represent the Inquisition well.” Cassandra said, frown deepening as Hawke flicked Varric’s ear childishly. “She has the ear of the Empress. Our first impressions with the Orlesian court must be good.” 

“Hey, Elf.” Hawke turned to Solas. 

“Yes?” He responded, preparing himself. 

“Can you come in with Varric?” She asked. “The looks on their faces would be amazing. An Apostate, a Dwarf and an Elf walk into Orlais.” 

“The invitation only applies to you Hawke.” Cassandra said. Hawke only continued to stare at Solas, waiting for his answer. 

“I believe that only you are invited.” Solas replied after casting an amused glance at Cassandra’s furious expression. It looked as though the Seeker was only a few seconds away from dragging Hawke off her horse to get the Champion to respond. 

“Well, shoot.” She faced forward once again, adopting a comically deep and serious tone. “I guess the responsibility falls on my shoulders. Our first impressions with the Orlesian court must be good. I hear that Madame de Fer has the ear of the Empress.” 

* * *

“We’ll be out here. Try not to cause too much trouble.” Varric said as Hawke dismounted her horse. Cassandra sat several metres behind with Solas, glaring. 

“Who, me?” She raised an eyebrow, throwing her staff for Varric to catch it. 

“Remember, good impressions.” He said. Hawke intended to make an impression alright, wearing full armour and warpaint. 

“Always.” She winked, turning towards the grand salon and marching towards it. At the end of a stone path stood the gates, secure and manned by several guards. The guards stood either side froze at the sight of Hawke, hands inching towards their weapons slowly as she stopped before them. “Evening boys. Mind letting me in?” 

One of the guards opened his mouth to respond but was cut off. 

“Open the gate!” A finely dressed man shouted as he appeared at the other side of the gate. “The Champion is the guest of honour.” 

“Hear that?” Hawke raised an eyebrow at the nearest guard as the golden gates were opened. It was slow going due to their size. “I’m the guest of honour. I’ve never felt so special. Truly, this is the pinnacle of my life.”

“Um...” Was all he could seem to say. 

“Do have a good night basking in my honour.” Hawke smiled. The man seemed taken aback by the strange mage’s manner, and stared dumbly as she passed him. The guard watched Hawke disappear into the salon, then turned to his comrade. 

“....What the fu...” 

* * *

“Introducing, Marian Hawke.” An announcer called as Hawke stepped into the main lobby. All conversations ceased instantly. “Champion of Kirkwall and Herald of Andraste.” 

“That’s certainly a mouthful.” Hawke muttered to herself, ignoring several people requesting her attention and making straight for an Elf servant holding a tray of drinks. 

“Champagne my lady?” He asked. 

“Sure.” Hawke took several gold coins from a pouch on her belt and slipped them into his top pocket. The servant’s jaw dropped at the act as Hawke took two glasses from the tray. “Keep the change.” She turned to find a man and woman approaching, dressed like typical Orlesian nobility. 

Masks and garish outfits. Always the same. 

“Herald of Andraste.” The woman gushed. 

“Yeah?” Hawke took a long sip of champagne from one glass. She had the feeling she’d need it.

“It is a pleasure to meet you.” The man dipped his head slightly. “There are many tales told of you, and my wife can’t seem to get enough of them.” 

“Tell me, are all the stories true?” The woman asked excitedly. 

“Calm yourself dear.” The man said. 

“Some are true, some aren’t.” Hawke shrugged. “I like to keep people guessing on which is which.” The couple smiled at her answer. _‘Huh, I think I could get the hang of this sort of thing. This lot don’t seem too bad.’_

“Herald of Andraste.” Someone spat behind her. Hawke sighed and drained one of the champagne glasses, handing it to the excited woman.

 _‘Spoke too soon.’_ Hawke thought as she turned to face an Orlesian noble, who stood in a ridiculous posture before her.

“ _Champion_ of Kirkwall.” He rolled the word on his tongue distastefully, attempting to intimidate Hawke with a glare. 

“Are you lost?” She raised a bemused eyebrow at him, draining half of her remaining champagne glass. 

“You are a pretender. Everybody knows that your so called ‘Inquisition’ is just an excuse for a group of political outcasts to grab power.” The Marquis strutted around her as he made his speech. 

 _‘Sounds like he’s been rehearsing this for a while.’_ Hawke thought as he circled her. She noticed that an audience had formed around them. 

“Your presence here is an affront to my...” The Marquis droned on, stopping when Hawke turned to a nearby servant. 

“Hey, where’s the buffet? I’m starving.” She asked.

“Over there my lady.” The servant pointed across the room, and Hawke followed his finger to spot several tables laden with food.

“Excellent.” She smiled, walking past the stunned Marquis. 

“Hey!” He shouted, frustration clear in his tone. “You dare ignore a direct challenge?” 

“Oh goody, they’ve got lemon cakes.” Hawke said happily as she reached the table, picking one up with her free hand and taking a bite. 

“How dare you ignore me!” The man shouted, earning a few snickers around the room as he stomped his foot. Hawke finished her champagne and set her glass down on the table. 

“These cakes are amazing.” Hawke said as she turned to face the Marquis again. He stomped through the amused crowd and stood over her. 

“I challenge you to a duel!” He practically screeched as his voice broke. This isn’t how this night was supposed to go. The Champion was supposed to stand there and be intimidated by his speech, not stand there eating cake and ignoring him. Why wasn’t it unfolding like he’d practiced all week in his room? 

“Say it, don’t spray it.” Hawke wiped her cheek as if to wipe a large amount of saliva away. This was met by laughter through the room, and was the last straw for the man, who reached for the rapier at his hip in a fit of rage. His fingers barely closed around the handle before Hawke waved her hand, freezing the man in place. 

“My, what have we here?” A voice called from the balcony above. Hawke looked up to see who she presumed to be Madame Vivienne making her way down the stairs slowly. Everyone in the room fell silent upon her arrival, and Hawke allowed herself a moment to be impressed by the fear Vivienne instilled in the nobles. A useful ally to have. “I hope that this man didn’t threaten you?” 

“He tried.” Hawke’s shrugged, waving her hand again. The Marquis coughed as he found himself able to move again, looking around at Vivienne in fear. 

“Madame...” He tried. 

“Hush now dear, you attempted to attack my honoured guest, under my roof.” Vivienne circled him like a predator. Hawke took a step back and watched with amusement as the man promptly shat himself. “By all rights, I could let her kill you at this very moment.” 

“Send him home. I’m sure it’s past his bed time.” Hawke shook her head. 

“How merciful.” Vivienne nodded. “Run along now dear, and do give your mother my regards.” The Marquis didn’t need any more warning and sprinted from the room as Vivienne turned to Hawke. “I’m glad you could make it to my little gathering. It’s  a pleasure to finally meet you.” 

“Can never turn down a good shindig.” Hawke shrugged. “Now, aren’t there a few things we need to discuss?” 

“Of course, let’s retire to somewhere more private.” Vivienne nodded elegantly. “Please, follow me.” 


	15. Inquisition mail

_Cullen_

_Im surprising myself by writing this, but here goes nothing. Vivienne is on board so the Orlesians might take us more seriously. Probably not, but at least we tried. That isn’t why I’m writing this letter though._

_I never thanked you for stopping me from freezing to death that night. Thanks. I guess._

_Look, I know it’s tense in Haven, and I know how Leliana and Cassandra see me. I’m everything that the Chantry hates, a free mage with too much power._ _They’re right, I shouldn't have this power, but I do and I can’t change that._

 _I understand that_   _it’s hard for you of all people to trust a mage, so I appreciate you not treating me like Leliana and Cassandra do. I know I’ve mentioned once before how all an apostate needs is for someone to trust them, and that’s what you’ve done._

_I guess what I’m trying to say is that of all the people in the Inquisition, it’s you who took my side and I won’t forget it._

_I’ll buy you a drink when I get back._

_Hawke._

_(Keep your nosy fingers out of my fucking mail spymaster, or I’m going to start rubbing my letters on goat testicles.)_

* * *

Cullen chuckled slightly at the last part of the letter, then leant back in his chair. The setting sun cast warm rays through the entrance of his tent. The troops had finished training for the day and chatted amiably as they retired. The sound of his men bonding as they passed his tent made Cullen relax slightly. 

They were becoming an effective, disciplined and loyal force. But there was still work to be done before they were ready. He looked over Hawke’s letter again, one line standing out to him. 

_I’ll buy you a drink when I get back._

_‘Did she mean that she wants to...’_ Cullen pondered. _‘No, don’t get ahead of yourself. She only meant it casually.’_ Yet Hawke had given Cullen a signal that morning in his tent, when she had let her guard down and parts of her old self slipped through slightly. When she had smiled at him, when she tucked her hair behind her ear, when she blushed slightly as Jim interrupted. 

That scene had been playing on a loop in Cullen’s head since she had left for Orlais four days ago. It would take a fool to ignore those signs.

But Hawke was also the Herald of Andraste and the face of the Inquisition. As Commander, it would be highly inappropriate for him to become involved. 

 _‘That’s if she even feels that way. I’m probably just imagining these things.’_ Cullen thought with a sigh, folding the letter and putting it in his desk. He fixed his attention on a supply report from the Hinterlands, trying in vain to wipe all thoughts of Hawke from his troubled mind. 

* * *

“So, what was in that letter of yours?” Varric asked Hawke as they sat beside a campfire. Vivienne, Solas and Cassandra shared another several metres away. Haven was still a couple of days away, and to everyone’s surprise Vivienne hadn’t complained about sleeping rough once. The Orlesian mage still looked pristine, and had spent her time berating Solas much to the amusement of Hawke. Varric had been busy taking notes on her mannerisms and air of authority. Hawke knew that the villain in his next book would be based on her.

Before they had left Orlais, Hawke had surprised everyone by sitting on her own for close to an hour writing a letter, and had sat there frowning at the parchment for most of that time whilst chewing the inside of her cheek. “Who was it to?” 

“It was a strongly worded letter to Isabela. She still owes me five Sovereigns.” Hawke responded, staring into the crackling campfire. She sipped from a small bottle of brandy then offered it to Varric. He shook his head. 

“Took you an hour to write that?” Varric raised an eyebrow. He had a good idea who she had written to, but decided to keep it quiet for now. If he was right, which he often was, then there would be a few sparks flying when they got back to Haven. “Must have been a _very_ stern letter.” 

“Twas the sternest of all letters.” Hawke smiled. She knew that Varric didn’t believe her excuse for one second, but he wouldn’t push for an answer. At least not yet. _‘What possessed me to write that letter?’_ Hawke studied the dirt between her boots. _‘It felt as though something was about to happen in his tent that morning, and I bolted like a nug with it’s tail on fire.’_ She frowned at her own internal monologue. _‘Maker Marian, listen to yourself, you’re better than this. Tell him how you feel.’_

Hawke paused. How did she feel? 

She hadn’t been with the Inquisition long but in that short time she had began to fall for Cullen, much to her alarm. These feelings were coming on very strongly and rapidly.

He hadn’t treated her any differently since she had become the Herald, to him she was still human. Still a person. 

 _‘Damn it, is that all it takes to turn me on these days?’_ Hawke sighed internally. _‘I guess I could just buy him a drink like I said in the letter, keep it casual for now. What if he doesn’t even feel the same way? He was a Templar, and he’s still all about honour and duty.’_

Hawke sighed to herself and lay back on her bedroll. 

“Turning in?” Varric asked. 

“Yeah.” Hawke closed her eyes. “Put a blanket over me when you put the fire out.” She yawned. _‘Couple of days till Haven. We’re both adults, I’ll just ask how he feels and we’ll work around it, no biggie.’_


End file.
